


You are in a Dream

by red_flag



Category: The 100 (TV), Westworld (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Android/Human, Character Death, Dubious Ethics, F/F, Grounder Clarke Griffin, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Violence, kind of, short of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_flag/pseuds/red_flag
Summary: A paid three-week vacation in the Park was everything Clarke had thought she needed and deserved after so much work. She was sure most of her co-workers were currently down into the market and enjoying some heavy shots of the grounder’s strong alcohol – the most adventurous ones would be currently fucking a Host in some brothel.But, nope, Clarke had made the decision to chase the most advanced narrative in this fake world of wonders. Or, rather, she had decided to chase the most adavnced character in this fake world of wonders. Little did she know, a choice as simple as that, was going to change the whole world's history and future.Free will might be a bitch after all.OrA three-part simple fun story that just turned into a huge ass fic in my head and I am going for it.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 29
Kudos: 106





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS; constant character death (short of, she cannot die, but the scenes are there), graphic descriptions of violence, questionable human choices and shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I rewriting this? Yes, I am.
> 
> It is about to get dark and complex, folks. The first chapter will be uptaded, until it reaches a number of words yet to be determined. I don't know the story just got really - really big in my head. 
> 
> There is an actual adventure/sci-fi/action plot in this, a full ass story split into some loooooong parts. I rewatched Westworld, folks.
> 
> Also, listen to me, Lexa has black blood which makes her skin complexion kinda greyish - ashen - pale - something like that. No cute blushes from Lexa, guys, I apologize for that.
> 
> The hickeys though... That's another conversation.

** PART ONE **

Clarke felt her breath waver just in time the air was sliced in half by the lethal tip of the spear. It cut the inches away from Lexa’s throat, sending a knot pull downward at the interior of Clarke’s aching throat.

The Commander snarled in reply to the attack.

Something like contained fury fell over the tight face of the Ice Prince, his threatening movements becoming more urgent – more forceful.

The spear sliced through the air again, not finding flesh on its way. Lexa had ducked again, the green eyes focused on the tight muscles under the light armor of the other fighter. The Commander might have years and years of training in her but so did the Ice Prince – with his tragic storyline and repressed anger of being a cast out… An almost paralyzing wave of dread swam over Clarke’s body as the fight played out in front of her eyes.

And then it changed.

The Prince moved forward in a stabbing motion, the sharpened metal being drove in with harsh force.

Just in seconds, Clarke saw the weapon find Lexa – the long blade ripping through skin and bone – slashing all the way through the small torso and out the Commander’s back, taking out torn pieces of muscle and splattering back blood.

Just in seconds, Clarke saw Lexa freeze in utter shock and a flash of pain – chest wavering with a wet retch. It sent a mouthful of black blood out of pulp lips, the coughs coming like choked sounds.

Just in seconds, Clarke saw the Commander peer down at the spear sticking inside her torso. A split hand was already wrapped around the longer spear, the green eyes losing focus and life and rolling in the back of the Commander's skull as the lean body lost its strength.

This didn’t happen.

Not this time.

Clarke blinked – shoulders hutched with a weight she hadn’t felt before.

She blinked and shook the memory away and focused her breathing and attention back at the fight happening in the middle of the arena.

The Commander was currently aiming an attack of her own, the spear now held in her own capable hands and it was turned on the Prince, who was stumbling back by the unexpected force of the Commander’s strikes.

Clarke blinked again, a deep breath being sucked in her lungs, as she watched Lexa tilt the spear in an upward, vertical arch that found the Ice Prince under the chin.

He crashed on his back, body slacking in defeat, red blood spat out of his mouth. For the first time in the Park's history, the crowd erupted in victorious cheers.

“Get up!”

The crowd's heads turned toward the stage and the Ice Queen. The old woman had stood from the throne, her wrinkled face furious and red under the smeared white paint.

“If you die, you don’t die a prince, you die a coward!”

Clarke wasn’t looking at her.

But Lexa was, and despite the heavy breathing and adrenaline, the Commander’s face was falling back into something calm and tamed. The green eyes were aflame – contained rage sparking in them as they looked at the other older woman.

Clarke knew the story; a fallen loved one in the hands of the Ice Queen as a part of a very long and twisted political game that had painted this world red with blood. The twist made here was something able to narrow down or open out everything and anything.

She could see the choices laid out in front of Lexa, clear as day.

Take revenge for Costia, a woman, who had never existed, who had never been a part of any kind of world, but who was so very true inside Lexa’s head. Or rather, the loss of her was probably the truest inside Lexa’s head. It was what made the black heart in the Commander’s chest stop for a second too long – what both softened and hardened the thoughts and emotions in Lexa’s brain.

Or, one of the things, that made the Commander who she was. Costia was a part of the long backstory of the Commander's suffering, but Lexa's cornerstone ran even deeper than Costia. 

The Commander would settle a part of this old pain today; Clarke didn’t know how. Lexa could take away the Queen’s only son and let her taste the poison Nia had forced down Lexa's throat; she could take away the Queen’s own life for the rest of the long game; she could take away both of them - mother and son. Out of these three, there was only one programmed choice and Clarke wasn’t that surprised when Lexa mumbled something to herself and leaned back in a throwing position.

This time, the fight ended with the spear tearing through the Ice Queen rather than Lexa and, yes, this was the best twist Bellamy Blake had written in his nine years as Head of Narrative.

“Freeze all motor functions”, Clarke called out and from the other side of the arena, a co-worker clicked something on his tablet.

The crowd froze in the middle of united yells of cheer. For the first time, Lexa stood in the middle of the arena with sharpened gaze and heaving chest and a beating heart – having won the fight against the Ice Prince.

“What do you think?” Bellamy appeared out of the crowd behind the group of little Nightbloods. He stood in his day clothes; a suit jacket and loose pants and elegant shoes, long curls messily falling over his forehead.

Unlike him, Clarke was dressed in costume; dirty boots that climbed up to her calves, and a heavy leather brace wrapping around her left knee, loose pants that hung low on Clarke’s hips, the waistband tied close with three separate belt pieces holding a few holsters and weapons. Over them, a wide undershirt was hidden under a layer of thick leather – light armor being used as a sleeveless tight vest that was closed up by straps and thin chains. A brown jacket was thrown over it, the sleeves ending just over her wrists, where long pieces of cloths were wrapped around Clarke’s hands and wrists. It was a good look – a practical gear – something Clarke felt powerful in some ways.

She was never going to tell it to Bellamy though.

“I think you are finally being smart”, Clarke said, stepping out of the front line of the frozen crowd, unable to not step closer to the Android in the arena. Lexa stood with her arms dropped by her sides, chest held motionless in the middle of a deep breath. The green eyes held both life and emptiness in them, their void staring at the crowd of the gathered people. The aura of clear and pure power was just as frozen around the Commander.

“Why, thank you, Griffin”, Bellamy sassed, brown eyes rolling as he also stepped in the arena, so out of place and time in a world like this. “Elaborate”.

Clarke stood by the Android, blue eyes caressing the Commander’s profile. Liquid as dark as the night leaked out of the slice on Lexa’s glove and palm, trailing down long fingers and dropping on the dirt tiles covering the city’s square.

“She is the best work we have”, Clarke said. The blue eyes flickered to Bellamy as he came to stand in front of them and without thinking much, the blonde stepped right between him and the Commander of the Twelve Clans. “Killing her at this time and in such a way was a waste”.

Bellamy lifted an eyebrow and Clarke felt her body still.

“The Commander is usually killed long before this moment, Clarke”.

A shadow fell over the woman’s face.

So many times, the blue eyes had caught the Commander’s naked body being rolled through the halls of the Headquarters, dead by a Guest’s hand and weapon. In the way to the front lines of the war between the Capital and the Ice Nation – in the very middle of the woods during a casual hunt – at the few times, a Guest had some kind of stealth in them, on the Commander’s own throne or bedroom.

The tower in the middle of Polis was difficult to be climbed by any Guest – the higher they went, the more warriors and storylines they met, and sooner than later, they did choose one of those storylines to play. On the top, the Commander’s narrative was held for the few focused ones; the ones knowing and wanting to follow the final level of the game. A political game of a hidden plot and adventure near the best warrior this Park held.

Even those Guests, who managed to reach this level, opted to kill the Commander somewhere in the middle to earn the Title themselves and be worshipped by the rest of the Hosts for the rest of the game.

It truly was a waste the last step of the Commander’s story ended with the Ice Prince winning the hand to hand combat. It didn’t fit the depth – it didn’t fit Lexa.

“It still felt like a waste”, she mumbled, her gaze turning to look up at the Android.

“Well, here you have it”, Bellamy answered. “She killed the Queen and ends the last level as the victor of the vendetta. Sooths her soul for Costia or whatever and crowns Roan as the King. Happy ending for your girl”.

“As it should”, Clarke smirked to herself. “What happens next?”

“Huh, she goes back to her Commander life and one of the war storylines closes up”.

“Ice Nation is the biggest storyline there is”, Clarke frowns at him.

Bellamy shook his head, “I’m closing the Commander – Ice Queen vendetta, Clarke, the Ice Nation remains on its war with _Trikru_ , but Roan takes his mother’s place as the head of the Nation”.

“And the Commander?”

“The Coalition remains broken – she keeps trying to fix it and we get her to the front lines of the war again. The loop goes on from there and the Guests are out by that time so there is no need for continuance”.

Clarke let out the large breath having pooled at the tip of her lungs. It did not sound complete coming out of his mouth like this – the story didn’t sound worthy being said like this. But it was Bellamy, this man had drafted and created countless stories and narratives and characters that the details now paled in front of his eyes.

The Commander of the Twelve Clans was the Park’s glue – the narratives’ link – the company’s experiment on artificial life and artificial intelligence. While most of the Hosts worked within the limits of the Headquarters’ build up loops and restrictions in the complex code resting inside the Androids’ “brain”, Commander Lexa was one of the most advanced systems they had built.

The Commander wasn’t restricted as tightly as the rest of her people. The main code of this Android worked based on Improvisation – making the Host’s behavior almost unpredictable based on the complexity of a balanced combination of ruthless politics of bloodied power and a deep humanitarian propose for a peaceful world.

Lexa’s war paint was smeared at one side, there was black blood trailing down a path from her wounded nose and a split lip. Upon aggressive contact of Roan’s hits, there were going to be a few bruises forming on the unnatural greyish skin. Surely one in the middle of the Commander’s torso, surely one on the side of her thigh or forearm. It was going to make Lexa limp, wince at the privacy of the bedroom, at the privacy of the glorious bathtub. The Commander’s night played on a constant loop each day she was put in the Park and in the role.

A young technician walked up to them, dressed in costume as well, enthusiasm in his gaze. He had a tablet in his hands, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. “Ma’am, if you are ready, we need to take them down now. The first group of Guests is about to arrive”.

She nodded, stepping back with a last gaze up at Lexa. A few clicks on the tablet had both the Commander and the Prince moving – slacking into a motionless position and mechanically raising on steady feet. The technicians parted through the crowd, most of the Hosts returning to their posts around the City, the leader stepping down and closer to those who would take them to their first positions around the Park.

Clarke watched Lexa trail behind a technician with nothing human in the Android’s form.

-

There was always a chill hovering in the Park, a gentle wave of air passing through the trees and plants and over the rivers peacefully running on the uneven surface. Despite most things in this world – this bubble of imagination becoming reality and reverse – the plants were the only living beings resting quietly. Healthy trees and green grass and fresh cold water. The four elements were the only natural pieces in the puzzle of this world.

It always left Clarke just a bit more breathless.

Usually, she wasn’t one to take walks in the Park – her place was in a quiet room with dim lights and a very bright tablet and some gorgeous machine. But, when the offer came, she wasn’t one to decline such a walk in the apocalyptic world they had built. There was a distinctive scent of water lilies in the fresh air; the rays of sunlight seemed just a bit warmer than usual; even dark with rain, the sky looked realer than the one Clarke was used to seeing. And the forest – as wild or dangerous as it looked – held a captivating beauty.

And Polis… Polis thrived with buzzing movements and cheerful talks and so many paths for one to follow. It stood in the middle of this world like a beacon of light. The very center of this world’s map was also a map of its own – filled with thinner lines of trails and missions and gifts to follow and find. The guard by the gate had a couple of words about the Pub’s secret basement. The hooker held a perfect set of lips and a tales of countless of characters. The old black man sleeping on a wooden cart packed with logs of wood, held a first place ticket to the Norther section of this world and its ruler.

The hidden lines of stairs by the side of the tower led you to the very top and straight to the Commander’s Throne Room.

The Guests didn’t know. But those having built this world and its people did, and so Clarke was soon found climbing up the countless of stairs – breathing heavy and painful in her chest by the exhaustion, the heart beating too wild and untamed.

 _Three weeks of free vacation_ , Jaha had said with a proud smile and his hands on his hips. _A vacation very much needed for the amount of work Clarke and the team had put in the last update._ And Becca had smiled as well and she had nodded and sent them off – bringing in the interns to monitor the Behavior Center in this time. Mecha Station seemed to have taken some time off as no more Androids were scheduled to be brought up.

Clarke though she had seen Reyes somewhere in a street pub.

Figures – a vacation in the base of the company they worked for. Obsessed with work wasn’t a funny joke between Clarke’s co-workers. Most of them always found themselves back here. Rumor had it; Mecha was set up with a wide room full of single cots. Knowing some of the people working there, it was not a surprise at all.

As her thighs clenched and ached with more and more steps up, the thought about Headquarters and Jaha and Becca slipped out of Clarke’s throbbing mind. The dirty boots of leather and fur were heavy but the soles were softer than expected – making it just a bit easier to walk up the stairs of cracked concrete. Still, her body wasn’t used to so much physical activities – muscles and bones and heartbeat putting the exact same amount of difficulty for the way up. The difficulty Clarke had wanted to somehow avoid by going up by the rusty elevator and having to dodge Hosts and Androids offering adventures she wouldn’t be able to turn down.

So, circled hidden staircase it was and Clarke’s body would be cursing her out for the days to come.

Despite a secret path upward, the steps were wide and the walls smoothed out with faint, colored patterns and paintings. The exterior wall was cracked and ripped with uneven holes in the concrete in more than one place, giving a glorious view of the city underneath, of the thick forest resting ahead. The higher Clarke got, the prettiest the view became; mountains and distant hills covered with waterfalls or villages coming into sight.

Side wooden doors were placed every five floors or so, the surfaces rough and imperfect. Clarke knew they led in hidden hallways of some range, which led in the main sectors of those key floors. The Guests weren’t given any hints of those sectors and the missions each one was holding. Figuring out how to play the game was part of the fun after all.

But Clarke was no Guest. She knew that the second floor led to the _Trikru_ best spy walking these lands. The seventh floor was a trip to Ton DC. The tenth and fifteenth and twentieth floors were linked to Mount Weather – a horror game of scientific experiments and twisted means of survival. Further up, the floors take the Guests to the front lines of a civil war between the clans.

And then, the Commander.

Clarke heaved out a shaky breath, feeling cold as the blood rushed out of her head because of tiredness it took to climb up to the very last level. Even the knowledge of being able to make it up was enough to suck out of her muscles the last of her energy and the woman took in another cracked inhale of oxygen, taking a heavy seat on the last step.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a hand wrapped in a fingerless glove. The costume fit the tiny arches and curves of her body like a second layer of skin. Even the more loose parts were exactly fit for her body – practical and perfect in their own way of this world. Loose pants and shirts and jackets fit together by tied straps and belts and gloves and long pieces of fabric. Clarke wasn’t one for armor, but in this level, she was going to need it.

It took a long while for her breathing to return to normal, for her limbs to stop shaking. It took a few gulps of cold water from one of the two hip flasks hanging from the belt around her waist. The other held some of the perfect black rum sold in a liquid stand in the middle of the market. Considering this being a paid vacation, she wasn’t going to pass the chance of grabbing one of the top shelf products.

With a groan and a stretch, Clarke pushed open the last door, the rusty hinges creaking all too loudly in the quiet. The entrance led to an empty hall that turned in a sharp corner after three steps and another door. Patiently, Clarke pushed it open with a shoulder, peering in the second hall and then, at another corner that led to the main room of this floor. The elevator stood mockingly in front of Clarke and she rolled her eyes at it, sure steps turning to the side and taking her along the long red carpet that spread out all the way to the throne room. In the way, the gentle rays of the lowering sun painted the space’s aura with gold light and warmth. It wouldn’t be long until servants started to light up lanterns and candles and fireplaces.

The double doors of the Throne Room stood open and inviting, but the two guards standing on their posts outside were the last obstacle to the final game waiting inside. Clarke ducked behind the corner of the wall, pressing her head on the concrete and sighting heavily. She was buzzing all over with excitement and anxiety of doing something like this – getting involved into a game of war and politics and assassinations. She was sure most of her co-workers were currently down into the market and enjoying some heavy shots of the grounder’s strong alcohol – the most adventurous ones would be currently fucking a Host in some brothel.

But, nope, Clarke made the decision to climb up thirty floors and chase the most advanced narrative.

Or, rather, chase the most advanced character.

This was the last chance to duck out of it and enjoy three weeks of relaxing inside a steaming, natural pool at the base of a glorious waterfall in the Glowing Forest.

To Hell with it; there was only one thing she wanted to know in this place.

If this wasn’t the time for a strengthening gulp of rum, Clarke didn’t know when else it was. It was sweeter than expected – heavy and alcoholic and good enough to send a jolt of rush down Clarke’s limbs. She had to cringe for a moment, at the overwhelming taste over the dryness of her tongue, before strapping the flask back in place and taking in a deep breath.

The guards wouldn’t let her inside the Throne Room easy – a last step of cheekily redirection – but Clarke wasn’t one to avoid a challenge and she sure as hell wasn’t one to play by the set rules.

This was Clarke’s goddamn vacation and she had already tried too much for it.

Thirty floors of stairs was the limit.

The guards’ eyes snapped onto Clarke as soon as she stepped behind the corner, hands tightening around spears, dark gazes hardening impossibly fast as the blonde woman peacefully walked up to them.

She didn’t feel any hint of guilt before whispering; “Freeze all motor function”.

The huge bodies of the warriors held still on their spots on the door and Clarke smirked, stepping between them and through the open double door. And there she had to pause.

The Throne Room stood wide and magnificent. A red narrow carpet was rolled out on the patterned tiles of the floor, leading to the three steps of a slightly higher marbled stage. To one side of the room, a long table stood against the wall, rolls of handmade maps resting on it. A couple of thick books were placed as well, popped up between heavy, high cases for the candles, made of metal and steel. On the wall above the table, an impressive series of weapons hung – weapons of the past Commanders and dead Nightbloods. To the other side, twelve chairs were carefully placed in two lines of six – easy to be moved into place for the few times a council meeting was needed. The high ceiling was covered with painted figures, scenes and patterns and over every surface in the room, countless of candles were already burning.

The Commander’s Throne rested in front of the balcony doors, where lengthy curtains spilled on the floor from the high ceiling. Long and twisted pieces of sculptured wood decorated the chair, red and blue and green ribbons were tied on them, gently swaying in the unmovable air of the room. Thin and soft leather and fabric covered the seat and its back, making it comfortable to sit on for hours. Holstered swords and long daggers were kept out of sight – hidden between the wooden pieces. A truly gorgeous design.

And right there, the Commander stood just behind her throne, a shoulder casually leaning on the balcony’s wooden door frame, an old worn out book in her hands. She stood in the only one small space of the day’s last sunlight, the direct golden light wrapping around the lean angles and the dark details of her clothes, an aura of power hanging around her – even with the casual and relaxed posture.

The war paint spread around the green eyes and trailed down the high cheekbones in its familiar shape of six mirrored lines – like tears or claw marks. The Commander wore the shoulder piece as well, the red sash spilling down her lean back and pooling by the combat boots. Light armor wrapped around her torso, tight pants hugged smoothly around the woman’s long legs. Brunette long hair were carefully pulled back into braids, spilling down the Commander’s sculptured back.

Lexa was breathtaking and Clarke had indeed lost her breath.

Like she felt the second presence in the room, the Commander’s head tilted up and turned toward the entrance of the room, green eyes pinning Clarke on the spot she stood on. The blonde waited a moment for the questioning surprise to cross over the Commander’s expression before slowly offering a bow. The blue eyes never looked away from the Android as something snapped through the Commander’s system.

The book was snapped shut and long legs carried the Commander to the side of the Throne, eyes narrowed under the black paint. Rough tension settled on her shoulder. “How did you get in here?”

“The guards let me in”, Clarke offered and the green eyes hardened even more.

Lexa stood on a lower step, a hand leaving the book on the Throne’s seat and curling around the handle of a sword. A threat was clear in the Commander’s posture and Clarke almost thought of turning back out and leaving the room.

“Who are you that dare to lie to my face?” the commander snarled, lifting the holstered sword and fully stepping down on the main floor of the room. There was a huge distance between the two of them but Clarke knew the Commander could strike her down in seconds if she wanted to. Not kill her but surely land a solid punch.

The blonde lifted her hands – palms out and flat – making sure to tilt in another bow. Miraculously, the tiny bend of her waist seemed to ease some of the Commander’s tension, but the hostility didn’t evaporate like Clarke had hoped.

“Commander”, Clarke begun and another small weight of tight tension seemed to be lifted off. Lexa’s jaw hardened even more, green eyes flashing dangerously in a warning that Clarke knew it wasn’t going to be carried through. The Commander wasn’t allowed to do so.

“I have information about the Mountain”.

As expected, Lexa closed the distance in a blink of an eye, a gloved hand snapping out to wrap around the blonde woman’s throat in a loose but firm grasp. Long fingers half wrapped around the white skin of her neck, half curled around the collar of Clarke’s jacket. Bright green eyes flashed under black paint, snapping steadily between Clarke’s blue orbs.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Of course not, _Heda_ ”.

“Who are you?”

“Clarke”.

“And how could you have any information about the Mountain, Clarke?”

 _Jesus_ , there was just _something_ in the way Lexa said her name that the blonde had to blink a couple of times to clear the thoughts rushing around her head. The way the Commander didn’t gaze away from her eyes and didn’t let go of her grip on Clarke’s neck; everything had the heart inside Clarke’s chest roughly beating against her chest.

Of course, _I built its people_ wasn’t going to be an answer that would save her from a few days and nights in a rusty cell in the tower’s basements.

But also, _also_ , an impossible to understand ease settled over both of them – some kind of familiarity at the way they stood across from each other, blue and green glaring at one another in a cold challenge. It wasn’t a way for Lexa could feel it – there was no way she could remember the times…

Clarke cleared her throat, shifting and blinking at the Host in front of her. As much as Clarke stared, the clearer the details of the Commander’s nature became; the greyish skin, the brightness of the green eyes, the way she stood without shifting an split inch from her commanding posture. These machines had been developed to the point of someone being unable to make out the difference between human and Android.

It was perfect.

It was art.

“Your people are kept in cages. Their blood is used as medicine”.

The words seemed shock something inside the stoic Commander, the grip around Clarke’s neck loosening in a second. Lexa took a step back, her gaze cold and untrusting but open and suddenly interested.

“Why should I believe you?”

“I was a prisoner there too. I escaped”.

“No one escapes the Mountain”, Lexa snarled and Clarke nodded, before shrugging and bowing again.

“I did”.

“Alone?”

“Alone”.

The Commander took a threatening step closer. “If you are mocking me…”

“I am not, L –Commander”.

Lexa exhaled heavily, shifting in the heels of her boots and turning around in a smooth half circle. “I have no reason to believe you, Clarke”.

“Do you have a reason not to?”

The green eyes flickered. “A couple”.

“Fair enough”, Clarke mumbled. She knew Lexa would turn down this line of action Clarke was setting here with her words and story. She knew Lexa didn’t have a choice, but to follow Clarke’s lead and set out an adventurous quest on the way. Clarke knew but she wasn’t going to push it.

“You are not a warrior”, Lexa’s eyes scanned her body slowly. The Commander managed to keep her face stoic and hard and her gaze steady and emotionless. On the other hand, Clarke couldn’t keep down a blush as the blue eyes spotted each change that would escape anyone else’s eye. The side of Lexa’s eyebrow seemed to twist in a suppressed way of expressing interest; the pulp lips pressed together in the moment the green eyes travelled down Clarke’s chest; the impressive jawline clenched tightly as the eyes lifted back up to Clarke’s face.

 _Jesus,_ how many hours had they spent on building this character? When Clarke had first started working in Behavior Station, Commander Lexa had already been placed in the Park for two long years. Becca had had a soft spot for the Commander of the Twelve Clans, overseeing the Host often enough for the rest of the Station to become familiar with Lexa walking motionlessly through the glass hallways. More than once had Clarke find herself in the same room with the Head of Behavior and the Commander, learning from her old teacher.

Personally, Clarke hadn’t had any chance to work on the Commander based on enriching the behavioral aspects and gesture motions. The Commander was encrypted work – careful and protected by Becca and even the company – and so Clarke had only gotten glances at the Android’s delicate code.

Clarke was always curious about hidden treasures.

“I am a healer”.

Lexa nodded as if the revelation made sense.

“How did you escape?”

“The Reapers’ tunnels. They connect with an entrance”.

“There is no way they didn’t rip you in pieces on the way out”.

“I jumped off a waterfall”.

There was a glimmer of _something_ in Lexa’s eyes and Clarke licked her lips.

“Clarke, you do not look like a person, who claims to have escaped the Mountain, survived the Reapers’ tunnels and jumped off a waterfall”.

 _Well, shit_.

“I wasn’t sure to come to you, _Heda_ ”, Clarke bowed her head again, heartbeat slamming against her chest and thudding down the veins. “A friend gave me shelter in the forest – a trading spot near the borders with _Azgeda_. Helped me regain my strength, before sending me on my way back to Polis. I only got here two days ago and was convinced today to seek an audience”.

“A story I would be a fool to believe”.

 _Alright, this was a difficult game_.

“I…”

“ _Gustus_!” Lexa’s head turned away a second before her body followed the movement, the Commander walking away from Clarke as the personal guard stepped into the Throne Room with a cutting gaze and a warning in his hold around a sword. “Please, take Clarke to a room until she builds a better story for me to trust”.

“Wait, _wait_ , what? I am a prisoner?”

“Yes”.

“Just like that?”

Lexa’s mouth crooked into a lopsided smirk full of amusement.

“Yes”.

Clarke’s eyes widened as a heavy hand wrapped around her upper arm. “Commander…”

“I will only hear the truth from you, Clarke”, Lexa called out uninterested, a hand calmly reaching out for the abandoned book on the Throne. “Take her”.

“Hold on –“

Gustus didn’t hesitate before landing that solid punch on Clarke’s jaw, the ankle and strength making her eyes water and her knees bent and her mind snap off of reality. Before losing consciousness, she felt the man’s arms wrapping around her body before it hit the ground.

She had to step up the game herself.

-

Apparently, _take Clarke to a room_ was some inside joke for the Commander and her personal bodyguards, because the only room Clarke found herself in was a cold dungeon made of stone, bricks and mold. There was a tiny hole of a window a couple of feet above Clarke’s head, a single rusted metal bar in the middle and a pile of wet mud been thrown in by uninterested walking boots.

Long story short, it was a shit kind of a room.

At least, there was a creaking cot to one side – the grids creaking too much under bodyweight – the hard mattress smelling like piss and vomit. Thankfully though, Clarke had climbed up thirty fucking stories of this tower and so whatever surface she could lay on was welcome.

It took two and a half days of heavily sleeping for her aching muscles to ease and for the dear Commander to come down at the cells for a chat. Instead of the tasteful plates of food Clarke was given – _it was the very first days into the Park for something worse than the uncleaned bucket in the corner_ – the Commander held something like a thermos, the scent of tea overpowering the smell of shit and dirt for a moment.

“Commander”, Clarke sat up on the cot as soon as the woman, who stepped under the doorway, became familiar. Clarke couldn’t stop the smirk. “Pleasure to see you”.

It seemed to utterly amuse Lexa, who stood with her back straight and the war paint perfectly marking her lean face and the shoulder guard looking all too heavy for someone to wear.

“Clarke of…” Lexa left the question lingering for a moment or two.

“ _Louwoda Kliron_ ”, the blonde rushed to say and it seemed to surprise Lexa.

“Shallow Valley is a far from the Mountain, Clarke”, the Commander lifted an eyebrow as if she _knew_ and was able to grasp every lie that rolled from the blonde’s mouth. “You need to start being honest with me”.

“I was the healer of a travelling caravan. We were ambushed by Reapers on our way here”.

Lexa tilted her head and nodded – just to get the story going. “Reapers who took you into the Mountain?”

“Yes”.

“The rest of your caravan?”

Clarke let her shoulders drop and she debated dramatically sighing. She didn’t, Lexa had finally come down and didn’t need another reason like mockery to leave again.

“Long dead, Commander”.

“I understand. So you came to Polis from your friend’s trading post to… tell me of the Mountain?”

“I did”.

“And I should believe you”.

“Commander”, Clarke cleared her throat. “I mean no harm to you or the spirit of our past Commanders. I can… prove what I am saying”.

“You can?”

“There is a tunnel; west of the _Pauna_ hunting grounds, where no Reaper goes in fear of the animal. This tunnel leads inside an underground net of roads and, the second arch to the right, is a stone staircase up that will lead you to the waterfall and the path to the Mountain’s entrance; this is where I escaped from”.

The details were real and perfect and complex enough for the Commander to narrow her green eyes at Clarke and think it through with consideration. In the broken darkness, there was no hint of the woman’s true nature, nothing to betray her thoughts were digital words and numbers and code, running through tiny wires and cables; micro adapters and mass storage cards; all of these parts being smaller than Clarke’s fingernail.

“I see”, the Commander mumbled quietly, green eyes never leaving Clarke’s face. “And the path from the waterfall to the entrance is guarded by Reapers, I presume?”

“Not the whole way. The guard an intersection near the base of the Mountain but the rest is free of them”.

Clarke hesitated.

“I can draw you a map, Commander, of what I have seen”.

Truth was, she could give Lexa the very combination to open Mount Weather’s front doors and let her walk right in the underground base, but Jaha would most definitely come up here, murder Clarke and then burry her somewhere in the forest for no one to find. It was the least you got if you messed the whole Park’s narrative.

“Very well”, Lexa nodded once, a simple dip of her chin, a flicker of cold acceptance on the stoic face. “You may draw this map and… I will arrange something more comfortable for you”.

Clarke nodded as well, arms crossed against her chest. She wanted a bath to get rid of the stink of this cell but she wasn’t going to push for it. “Thank you, Commander”.

“In the mint time, a guard will be posted by your side until I contact the general and ambassadors of _Trikru_ ”.

“A guard?”

“Yes. You are still a prisoner, Clarke of the Shallow Valley. I do not trust your word yet”.

Something puffed out in her chest when a huge man stepped into view behind Lexa, his eyes dark and his beard wild and the face tattoo absolutely gorgeous. He looked a lot like Gustus and the build was probably the exact same with small diversions – those eyes were piercing blue under the greyish war paint and his hair seemed more caramel than brunette. It took her a moment to remember this Android, its given role and position and narrative – Gustus’ cousin and Lexa’s secondary personal guard, named Ryder and one of the best archers of _Trikru_.

Dealing with the Commander of the Twelve Clans meant that a Guest had to deal with a three branches of people as well. These two bodyguards – Gustus and Ryder – always hovering close and protective and able to snap a man into half if they even looked at their Commander wrong – they were the muscle someone would have to deal with to get to Lexa’s smaller physically form. They weren’t the Commander’s bodyguards, just because they were huge, but because they were ranked the best warriors in the Commander’s birth Clan of Tree People – a swordsman and an archer. Guests usually made it through, with the ability to not get severely hurt, but the Commander’s kind-related enemies in this Park were usually sent downstairs in several broken pieces.

Second came the advisor – Titus – an old man who worried too much and believed in the religion of the spirits and signs and stars to the point of being considered a mysterious and dark nonmember. His own narrative wasn’t any lighter than the Commander’s, but it did entertain cryptic plays of supernatural and dangerous fantasy mind games. He had a word in the Commander’s actions, due to the spirit resting inside Lexa’s soul and brain – the Flame. Titus was the Flame’s keeper; the protective priest; the quiet, hidden presence of something lethal in the midst of politics and action.

And last but not least, the Commander’s old mentor – a woman from the Tree People with a sharp mind and even sharper reflexes. Anya had a path and narrative of her own – deep in the woods and close to the borders with Mount Weather and _Azgeda_ – but playing the Commander’s game meant playing Anya’s as well. Clarke was sure Lexa wanted time to contact the general and she knew the Quest about to take place, would make a stop at doorstep of this _Trikru_ warrior. Just like Gustus and Ryder, Anya’s code put Lexa above everything else – sometimes even a Guest’s wishes.

Now, Clarke was going to meet all of those people.

If the introduction was anything like with Gustus, she wasn’t looking forward to it.

The room was nicer this time. More than that – it was _amazing_ – with a double bed packed with warm fur blankets and a bathroom, which didn’t smell like human shit and had a bathtub ready to be filled with hot and scented water. There was even a balcony overlooking the whole city, the forest and the Mountains, a pair of twin rocking chairs peacefully bathed in the sunlight. Candles were burning _everywhere,_ even a tiny fireplace was lit up to the side – the warmth gentle and quiet and comforting.

God bless technology for synthetic fire.

Two armchairs and a small couch were placed in front of it, creating a small sitting room that looked cozy enough for Clarke to think about ditching the Quest and spend the rest of the vacation right here. To the side of the room, a closet stood wide and tall and filled with even more costume choices – every piece of clothing being her size.

Sinking into the warm, pinkish and scented water of the bathtub, Clarke quietly moaned and made a note to never piss Lexa off again. If she was to be a prisoner, the golden chains were much preferred.

It was only when the sun had started to crawl down the skyline and Clarke had put the costume back on, switching a warm layer of her shirts with a vest of light armor, that a knock sounded on the door and Ryder popped half of his body inside. The man was quiet, but his glare could melt steel, and so the blonde knew not to bother him and his job to watch her too much. They were going to spend time together after all.

“The Commander is ready to talk”.

Clarke bowed to him, to the door, to the words coming out of his mouth. Bowing was what saved you time and trouble in this world. Patience, bowing and a third eye on the back of your head.

It was as if Lexa became more beautiful in the time they were apart.

“Take a seat, Clarke”.

“You talked with the ambassadors?”

Lexa seemed lighter in a way – all authority and power and goddamned domination – but there was some missing weight from the tight muscles and sharp eyes. In the light of the fake fire, they looked impossibly green – as if another world full of forests and mountains rested in these two orbs.

“I did talk with them”, the commander leaned back into the couch and the only thing missing was a damn newspaper. The Commander felt casual and urgent and like everything was under control and figured out and Clarke could not help but lean forward – awaiting the details of the Quest they would have tomorrow morning with a buzzing anticipation she couldn’t tame.

Lexa offered a lopsided smirk at her and the green eyes glimmered with _something_ and Clarke almost burst up into her feet with a yelp of excitement.

“The tunnel in the _Pauna_ territory you told me about is known between _Trikru_ warriors and spies. It known but never fully explored, because of the animal’s pack living in this land. Known are the stone openings above the near waterfalls as well. Your friend’s trading post isn’t far either. The ambassador agreed to your map and named it true and so I have a few less reasons not to trust you, Clarke of the Shallow Valley”.

Clarke was nodded eagerly. This was the intro of her game; this was the beginning of the Commander’s storyline Clarke was going to follow for the rest of the time in the Park.

“What now?”

Lexa looked away from the burning flames in the fireplace and met the blue eyes with seriousness. “This is the most information we have ever had about the Mountain, Clarke. I’ll need you to tell me everything you know of the inside, of our captured people, and of the Mountain Men. If you could get out of it, then my warriors can get in”.

Clarke hesitated. “What of Queen Nia?”

It seemed to make Lexa pause, the green eyes turning cold and downcast. A muscle twisted on the side of her jawline and Clarke felt her mouth part at the movement’s detail. For a moment, she almost ran to her backpack and the notebook resting inside – almost desperate to sketch the Android’s expression shifts.

She almost paused the game to do so.

“A word of my plans to take down the Mountain will reach Nia”, Lexa carefully said. “It is not likely she will try to move against the Coalition at the face of this opportunity. The Mountain is an enemy for us both”.

For one more time, Clarke bowed her head.

And as if she felt Clarke’s anticipation, the Commander speeded up the process of introducing Clarke to the general narrative they were going to follow through. In seconds, Lexa was both relaxing on the couch and scooting forward to lean her forearms on her knees, green eyes sparking and captivating and pinned on the bright blue ones.

“This has never happened before, Clarke of Shallow Valley”, Lexa spoke and something like a smile fought to present itself on her mouth. “We will be travelling tomorrow morning, just the two of us and a selective few warriors. Upon your word, a capable group of _Trikru_ spies will be gathered in Ton DC. Your experience of the inside and their experience of the Mountain’s outside rage shall give us a plan for a mission to free our people from the Mountain’s shadow. This is going to be a harsh trip to the _Trikru_ capitol and a harsher process then to find a way to sneak past their lethal defenses”.

Jaha was going to kill her, but what a sweet death it was going to be. “I was in a simple cage, Commander. I do not know the inside of the Mountain”.

“The mission is to simply get in without being noticed at this time”, Lexa smirked fully now and Clarke sat back, returning the cheeky smile. “After that, we will make a new plan of how to take them down”.

Clarke nodded, relaxing at knowing the Park wasn’t going to be pulled into a war storyline of such scale and ruining the rest of the Guests’ chosen experience.

“Do you accept?”

“Fuck yes”.

-

The steps didn’t echo in the night’s silence – the thick carpet on the patterned floor sucking the sound.

Rusty hinges creaked upon the door being pushed open slowly by a bare hand, the other tightly holding the flat touch screen. Simple code was slowly running over small windows on the sides, numbers and letters of a digital language appearing and disappearing in long lines. Despite the constant movements on the touch screen of the Behavior tablet, the technician knew there was nothing to worry about; the fast speed of the written code was standard. Nothing was out of the typical way of things working into this world.

The two guards remained completely frozen outside the door and the person didn’t bother closing it; their eyes unmovable and missing the electric currents that betrayed they were online. No movement made in front of them was registered on the Android’s memory systems.

The Behavior tablet sent off a gentle _beep_ at being close to another Host. The room was mostly dark – the soft moonlight being the only thing spilling inside from the cracked glass doors and windows and giving a glowing shape to the elegant pieces of furniture. Most of the candles had long been burned out by now.

Lexa was a frozen shape underneath the fur blanket on the King sized double bed. The Commander looked uncharacteristically small compared to the mattress, laying on one side and facing away from the door. The Android’s shoulders and chest were rhythmically moving – betraying the system’s operational state. It only took a butterfly click on the touch screen for the machine to completely still underneath the covers, the motor functions turned off for the time being.

It took five steps to get to the Commander’s side. A gentle bare hand reached out and long fingers brushed the brunette tangled hair behind an ear. For a moment, the only movements and sounds in the room were the human’s caring eyes and their light breathing.

Clothes shifted as the person bent forward and came to rest a few inches above Lexa, pulp lips parting for a moment before pressing together in long consideration.

“ _A rose by any other name…_ ” a gentle voice breathed at last “… _would smell as sweet_ ”.

The code of the tablet seemed to pause for a split second – before a loading bar appeared across the touch screen, green color quickly speeding along a thick line and blinking once when the number reached 100%. It was a whole other race of digital numbers and code after that.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment. Should I continue this as a long-part thing or do you prefer chapters? I like the long-part thing better but if it is difficult for you with the constant updates, let me know.
> 
> I usually prefer to have the whole thing written before posting it but this is just an odd story in itself - i have no clue what i am doing so i prefer getting it out as soon as a section is written


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any mistakes, please, point them out, I didn't re-read this before posting.
> 
> And in the comments, I'd like you to tell me how you view the descriptions of technology in this. What do you think of the way Lexa's nature is pictured? Should I go into more detail? Explain more of the way Androids work? The systems or the backstory of the Park, no idea, tell me.
> 
> Clarke being aware makes it easier to describe the details that give the Droids away, but is it smooth? Enough?
> 
> Happy reading, folks.
> 
> There might be edits here and there. Kudos to anyone finding the references of dear literature pieces.

** PART TWO – QUEST **

Sunlight warmed the skin of Clarke’s face and exposed neck as the woman leaned back against the pole of the stables’ entrance. Despite being only half an hour since the sun peeked over the horizon, Polis was alive with morning energy, grounders of every Clan coming and going in front of her eager eyes. She was determined not to let the smell affect the good mood and buzzing electricity rushing through her nerves at the known events that were going to follow today.

As time passed, more than one Hosts would stop in front of her – an attractive young warrior from _Trishana_ with cheeky smiles and smooth voice and burning eyes – some old lady with a glimmering smart gaze and a curt full of free food and flowing alcohol and something like weed – a warrior of Delphi Clan who was still drunk from the night before and mumbled on and on about a treasure hunt into the Glowing Forest – at some point, three grounder kids started an intense fistfight a _foot_ away from Clarke. It took four adults to contain the screaming teenagers from killing one another.

Ryder stood inside the stables, talking to the horses’ keeper – a very gorgeous redhead with a twisting face tattoo on the side of her jaw and neck. They were loudly talking of some _Trikru_ warrior coming wounded back from the open war with _Azgeda_ – currently balancing between life and death and claiming to have seen the Spirit World – whatever that meant.

It was weird – playing the game she was a part of monitoring. The grounders around Clarke were vaguely familiar, their movements and expressions and the details portraying life reminding her of the countless of times spent in front of a hovering screen and a flat keypad. Each movement made in front of her eyes was automatically connected with the code Clarke perfectly knew. It felt pretty good – recognizing her own work and seeing it playing out in action.

What a perfect illusion these beings were.

Truth was – the public Park was only a small part of the work this company was putting. Superior to the rest of the antagonizing multi-billion businesses in this country, Delos had bought the monopoly on a scale of digital products – from simple cables to Artificial Intelligent devices and programs sold all over the world. The Park was the main front of the company’s role into the global commerce and technological manufacture. Graduating from Computer Science Programs hadn’t prepared Clarke of Delos’ practical work and extend.

And, Jesus, the amount of money these people were making…

She understood it though. They’d achieved the ultimate creation; they’d brought something undoubtingly wonderful into existence. They’d built these complex machines, which were so much more than anything made before by humanity. At some points, the Hosts were so much more than even humans. It wasn’t just Artificial Intelligence.

It was Artificial Life.

A sneeze here and a cough there. A woman laughing with her eyes closed and her head tilted back. A man with a scarred face and a glimmer in his gaze that looked a lot like pure happiness. A young child chasing after a dog – the two of them waving through the rest of the Hosts like a blur of movements. As the kid raced past a weapon stand – barely avoiding hitting on a woman – someone yelped and shouted a warning – the frustration clear and unmistaken in the rough voice. The attractive man from before walked by Clarke again and this time, she took a moment to take in his widening smile, the seduction in his gaze, the way he bowed to her lightly before going on his way to sit near a food stand – a clear invitation for her.

Everything was so beautiful, so very real.

A body knocked against Clarke’s side with force that made her stumble – a painful stab flashing through muscle all the way to her brain and making her hiss.

 _Too real_.

“Griffin!” the body’s voice yelled right next to her left ear and Clarke frowned deeply, turning to find Reyes standing an inch away from her face, with reddened eyes and purple shades underneath. Alcohol and smoke clung onto the woman like a second layer of clothes and Clarke coughed once, shifting away.

“What are you doing, Raven?”

“ _Me?_ What are _you_ doing? We have been here for – what? Three days and I haven’t seen you once. We’re going to try a pub to section A7. Come on”.

“You – Jesus, you guys have been drinking for three days?!”

“Hey, no judgement, Griffin. Everything is paid and, hell, do we deserve to play the game we have been building all those years. Our bosses are fucking assholes, do you know that? All this wonder we have been making in the last decade of our lives and they haven’t let us _once_ to get up here and play Guests”.

It pulled a smile from Clarke’s mouth but Raven seemed to have many more points for this argument and she was currently mumbling them out like a madwoman. The blonde took a moment to look at her co-worker, liking the open way the mechanic was speaking to her despite the very few times they’d talked. Mecha Station and Behavior were not located in a close distance and so the workers and technicians had little to no contact while working. But Clarke liked Raven and the woman’s loud mouth and sharp brain.

The mechanic was dressed into light armor and there was even a sword holstered in her belt. A bright red worn out jacket spilled all the way down to Raven’s thighs, the front of it unbuttoned and thrown open to show a protective vest. A horizontal brown pack was securely strapped along her chest, a series of leather purses were tied on the wide belt. Raven’s pants wrapped tight around her legs, big pockets marking the sides on her thighs.

A heeled, lengthy boot crawled up one leg – stopping calve-high. The woman’s other leg was cut off just below her knee and ended in an advanced prosthetic of white silicone and materials Clarke didn’t know of. It was like looking at one of their Hosts and it wouldn’t be a surprise to find out Raven had made this from old Android parts they didn’t need anymore. Despite that, the design was a smooth work –looking perfect – the clear shape of leg muscles standing out incredibly accurate and meticulous. If she had wanted to, Raven could have rolled down the pants’ hose and put on the second boot. She had not and Clarke was awed by the way the prosthetic limb was bypassed in front of the eyes of these beings, which were made just exactly the same – in nature and shape and materials.

They programmed not to notice their true nature.

Raven caught her eye and smirked. “I know right”.

“ _Unbelievable_ ”.

“It’s fun. It is funnier when a Guest, who isn’t Delos, sees it and freaks the fuck out, calling security on me”.

Clarke laughed.

“So, pub?”

Clarke leaned back against the wooden pole, loosely crossing her arms across her chest and shaking her head no. “Sorry, Reyes, I am on a Quest”.

“Shit, really? No fun times before jumping straight in the game?”

“I will have my fun with this”.

“Well, that is a shame, Griffin, down in Mecha we were looking forward to spent time with the blond, star behavior technician”.

“Star behavior technician, huh? Who is spreading those words?”

Raven snorted.

“Blake, of course, seems like the only thing halting his complaining is your dear presence”.

“Really? Do tell”.

“Buy me a drink first”.

“Come on…”

Raven shrugged with lifted eyebrows. “I’m surely much more interesting than whatever treasure hunt you have planned out, Griffin. Come on, one drink”.

“Nope. Nothing more interesting than that I am afraid”.

“Jesus, what are you playing?”

“The Commander”.

Raven froze, brown eyes almost popping out of the skull due to the surprise and shock at the revelation. It was endearing to watch. “Crap, you… are not joking around, do you? Three weeks of no work and you chose to have assassins and bounty hunters hunting you down though a wild forest of radioactive animals and dangerous people”.

“Yes”.

Raven swayed on her feet, looking worried about Clarke’s metal health, before shrugging pointedly. “Well, good fucking luck out there, Griffin. I will see you in a month and I hope you are in one piece. I hear some of the Commander’s following characters can actually hurt you”.

Clarke tilted her head to the side to show the dark bruise that had formed on the side of the blonde’s jaw because of the punch Gustus had landed on her. Raven looked at the purple mark with empty eyes before nodding to herself and mumbling something in Spanish – quick to turn on the heels of her feet and walk away. Clarke’s laugh followed after her smoothly.

It wasn’t long after Raven’s departure when the crowd split in half for Lexa to walk through. As if the young Commander carried a coded signal, the rest of the Hosts paused whatever they were doing to smoothly turn and bow their heads to Lexa, a quiet echo of mumbles being carried through this part of the market. It was a collective movement of bows and reaching arms and quiet words that traitorously betrayed the real inhuman nature of these Androids. No human crowd could react with such precise unity in the sight of any other presence.

_“May the spirits of the forest lead your way, Heda”._

The collective bow lasted three seconds and then a simple wave of the Commander’s hand broke the spell, making the grounders turn back to their activities and loops. Clarke marveled at the way the invisible digital data spread between the machines to the point of it being undoubtingly perceptible. Also, Clarke was just as awed by the Commander’s force into the middle of the rest of the Hosts; Lexa was an energy field of command and a beacon of transmitting clear signals calling to the other Androids.

Absolutely amazing work.

Lexa was dressed differently. Gone were the light, almost casual clothes she had worn in the tower. The Commander was now wrapped into a long coat, thick and protective and packed with hidden daggers and throwing knives. A sword rested on the thick belt around her waist, a fingerless gloved hand wrapping around the handle. The braids seemed tighter around locks of brunette hair, the war paint was more prominent – darker, smoother. To Clarke’s surprise, the heavy metal shoulder guard and the red sash were missing from the Host’s body, leaving her looking smaller than usual – flexible, touchable. It was a surprise how a detail could change so much.

The exact same thing of the Commander’s armor was the round piece between Lexa’s eyebrows.

“Clarke”.

“Commander”.

“I believe you are ready for the journey?”

Clarke had a pack on one shoulder, its weight resting against her hip heavily, the single strap digging into the opposite shoulder and dragging her down slightly. It was made of animal skin – the texture smooth and soft and worn out by time and use – pockets and straps having been sewed more than once. As instructed and coded, Ryder had mechanically given it to Clarke this morning, half of it already filled with the Park’s adventure gear they’d might need on the way to _Trikru_ main sections. Inside, Clarke’s guide had put a map of the arranged travelling road – a manager’s subtle help for the Guests this early in the game.

Procedure, safety guidelines for first timers.

Clarke couldn’t help, but smile at the thought. She knew this Park’s lands like the back of her hand.

Beside the map rested a leather purse filled of water, a sack of rations and food, a small wooden box with matches and tinder. A cute little knife – sharp as all hell and pocked out of the side of the bag so pulling it out was easy. A small wooden cup slash bowl rested by the sack of dry rations, an equally wooden spoon next to it. A med kit of simple gauzes, a reel of thread and a few needles, a thick liquid salve the grounders used to treat infections. A tiny flask of greenish poison. On the exterior bottom of the side pack rested a rolled sleeping bag, securely tied underneath with a covered, holstered long blade that reminded more of a sword than a knife as it was considered. Just as carefully folded, a blanket was placed inside – making it clear the nights in the woods were going to be cold and slightly uncomfortable.

Just thinking of the contained items made a rush of innocent excitement snap through Clarke’s nerves – almost making her feel like a kid on a school trip.

Working for the Park also had a few perks. While most of the Guests weren’t allowed to bring many things inside in fear of shifting the narrative to questions about a world Androids shouldn’t come into contact with, Clarke had been able to bring along her notebook and a mechanical pencil, the two items having found a spot inside a pocket of her worn out jacket. There weren’t many things in the pages for a Host to see and question – it was filled handmade images of detailed physical movements able to be captured in the white paper, quotes and phrases waiting to be used into a narrative, black and white detailed sketches of human anatomy; mindless doodles of eyes, lips, hands, muscles and war paint designs.

“As ready as I will ever be”.

The Commander offered a stoic nod – turning to look up at Ryder, as he came to tower over Clarke. These Hosts were built incredibly huge and Clarke had to fully tilt her head back to see his face.

He shot Clarke a side look before looking at his Commander again.

“The horses are ready, _Heda_ ”.

“Very well”.

“It is going to be just the four of us?”

“The road to Ton DC is safe. We won’t need more”.

Clarke bit back a smirk and leaned down in a cheeky bow.

“I fear not by your side, Commander”.

Lexa’s only response was a lifted eyebrow and a faint surprised glimmer in her green eyes.

However, Ryder didn’t share the teasing nature of the conversation. It only took a roll of his dark eyes and an exasperated huff, before he smoothly grabbed Clarke by the waist with his large hands to effortlessly twist her up into the back of a given horse.

The blonde almost slipped right off, barely in time to find a strong hold on the horse’s reins. With a jerk, she managed to stay on top of the white animal, swiftly blowing a lock of blond hair from her eyes to glare at the huge bearded man by her side.

The Commander’s mouth was shaped into a faint, lopsided, amused thing.

“After you, Commander”, Ryder cleared his throat and exchanged a nod with Gustus.

The ghost of the smile was gone as soon as Lexa was on top of her own horse.

The crowd of grounders usually parted for the horses in a smooth mechanical way, but on the back of the front brown horse sat their Commander, the center constant and force in between them all. This time, the Androids bowed out of the way – opening a path for the horsemen and closing it again in an almost artistic way – like a prayer.

_“May the spirits of the forest lead your way, Heda”._

Becca truly had her moments.

The horses passed the wooden gates of the walls and walked over the main dirt road spreading out toward the deep forest. Ryder rode ahead on top of his snow-white horse – sharp brown eyes scavenging the land and people coming before them, and then, Gustus came just as alerted and aware of the surroundings. He rode closer to Lexa, ready to fall into a protective shield in front of the Commander, a hand already closed around the handle of the sword.

The Commander stood atop of her own horse with her spine snapped straight, and one hand smoothly held the skin reins, riding by Clarke’s side. The Commander’s horse was as black as the blood running into her veins and Clarke found it endearing. One the other hand, Clarke’s horse stood in clear contrast, thinner and fainted colored, but still strutting strong under the human it was carrying, its dark brown eyes looking youthful and alert.

“May the spirits of the forest lead our way”, the Commander mumbled to the air.

Clarke smiled to herself, knowing the lines all too well. She said; “May the Flame lights our paths”.

Lexa nodded her head without turning but Clarke thought she caught sight of another faint smile.

-

Among the crowd of anthropomorphic machines, eyes trailed the four horses riding out of the Capital. The hooded figure softly exhaled a wavering breath, before turning around on the wooden stool, to drown the last of the cup’s alcohol with a few deep gulps. It sweetly burned on the way down, sending a rush into their limbs.

They tossed a single golden coin into the wooden surface of the street pub, grasping at a leather hip pack and steadily swinging their legs down to find the uneven dirt ground.

Just as they were about to walk away, a flash of movement passed by the corner of their eye, split seconds before an anguished cry of pain. The screaming Host grasped at his chopped wrist, red blood pooling onto the wooden surface of the stand – a small axe resting in the distance between the limp hand and the cut wrist.

The Guest rolled his own eyes at the chilling screams, reaching for a second axe on his belt, being quick to drive it right through the Android’s torso in a deathly hit.

The hooded figure placed a second coin on the bar for the pool of blood and unnecessary violence, before fully walking away towards the Commander’s empty tower.

-

Clarke breathed in the scent of crystal clear water mixing with the smell of Earth and wet grass. For a small moment, she let go the thought about the game, to soak in the peacefulness of the trees around her. Blue eyes slowly closed, and nostrils flared in a deep inhale – taking in the pure scents. At the same time, Clarke fell quiet to listen to the harmony of sounds; the river’s running water, the trees’ dancing leaves, the gentle bird song, the quiet mumble of her company.

The light footsteps on dry leaves and branches.

“Clarke”.

“Commander”.

“I believe you are enjoying yourself”.

A smile fought and won the battle – carefully pulling at her lips. “You believe right”.

Blue eyes blinked open to look at the Commander bending her knees to lower down to Clarke’s level. She had a waterskin in her hold, uncapped and tilting down to dip into the water. They had travelled away from the main roads that lead to Polis – slipping deeper in the wild woods. The creek of water was welcomed in the climbing temperatures of the day, the horses gladly drinking and the warriors following Clarke’s lead of filling their leather purses. It was the middle hour of the sun’s ascent on the clear sky – in the hour of the sun’s descent, they’d stop to hunt some food and make camp.

“Have your travels brought you to Ton DC before?”

Clarke chuckled, looking up at the familiar scenery. There was an elevator to section B3, half an hour on foot from this creek. The trees’ side leaning roots lead straight to it.

“Once or twice”.

She looked at the Commander next to her. Sitting close and in the bright sunlight, the details of the Host’s true nature became more prominent; the abnormal greyish skin, the manufactured brightness of the green eyes, the unnatural deep and steady chest’s movement but the complete lack of the sound of breathing. It was clear the lungs in the Commander’s ribs didn’t move because of sucked and blown oxygen, but due to a very simple mechanism.

Everything was an illusion.

A captivating one.

“It is time to tell me of the Mountain”, Lexa quietly asked. Her hand tilted the filled waterskin back up, long fingers reaching to twist the cap back on. The black claw-shapes of her war paint seemed fainter than the moment they had left Polis and Clarke guessed it’d almost be gone by the time they’d arrive to the _Trikru_ capital.

They climbed back on the horses, the animals neighing gently and ready to move. This time Ryder moved to guard the back; his bow in a hand, the quiver strapped to the saddle so the arrows were within reach. A glaring exchange of pointed gazes passed between the warrior and Clarke, and the woman thought of how blessed she was for the programmed safe keys that didn’t allow Ryder to punch her whenever he felt like it.

Spending time with Bellamy Blake had some perks; like crafting a detailed story on the spot and being able to wrap it up with enough believable emotions and actions.

“We were seven, coming from a village south of the Clan’s capital city. We are farmers and producing our own red wine and general _Argos_ sent us to Polis after the first taste. To exchange for early winter clothing”.

“A trading caravan?”

“Yes”.

“Why would a trading caravan need a healer?”

“It didn’t. I wanted to come to Polis personally. Exchange herbs for salves and poison antidotes”.

“Where were you captured?”

“Just over the borders with _Trikru_ , Commander”, Clarke sighed, making everything up on the spot. Lexa did not seem ready to question. “It was early dawn and only half of us had woken up from our night’s slumber. Those awake were instantly butchered before they had time to reach their weapons. Those asleep were captured soon after. We were blindfolded, tied to a cut tree and taken for a day’s walking distance to the entrance of the tunnels”.

“When did they take off the blindfolds?”

“We were drugged”, Clarke knew the procedure – knew this specific loop. “They placed us on our knees somewhere underground, we could smell the trapped air between stone and earth. Then, it was a sound of _tech_ – the sound of metal dragging on metal and then stone. I felt the presence of four, smelled their fear and anxiety to be close to the Reapers and us. I sensed their weapons and threat. That was when they drugged us”.

Clarke could feel the Commander’s green eyes watching the side of her face, clouded with a lifelike layer of grief and tamed fury. Lexa’s jaw was rhythmically clenching and unclenching, the movement of her chest had somehow deepened. For a moment, Clarke forgot about being in the Park; blue eyes sharpening with watchful observation of the gestures.

The clenched jaw was always the first the Behavior Team had worked on, the Commander’s first response to upsetting news. A simple move – down – and half the side, gently. Tightness of face muscles and a very faint frown of sculptured eyebrows. Long fingers, tightening around whatever they were holding on. And… apparently, the lifelike brightness deemed in the green orbs – making them harder, inhumanly strange and emotionlessly shallow.

More real.

More true to everything Lexa was.

“What happened after?”

Clarke blinked and found herself into the Park, cutting off the intense stare on the Commander’s gestures.

“I woke up later”. Her voice came out hoarser, lower. “In a cell of a lightless dungeon full of other cells. The spirits of the earth were not welcome inside. Only the spirit of death had followed us in the room. The sun did not spill its light, the air was trapped and cold and evil. There were so many prisons for all of us – I think about… hundreds of _Trikru, Azgeda en… Ouskejon Kru_. Farmers and warriors and spies caught. There were two warriors hang upside down from their feet and ankles and calves to some machine. I could see the red blood sucked out of their bodies by tubes”.

Lexa’s jaw clenched again, eyes unmoving and dangerous and inhuman in the anthropomorphic body. It was unsettling and odd and perfectly in character for the ruthless Commander of the Twelve Clans. Clarke had to gulp and look away.

“I escaped after being put up there”, Clarke gulped, stealing the story of a single grounder that would find itself on those machines. She wasn’t worried for messing with the narratives – the chances to actually meet Lincoln after his escape from Mount Weather weren’t worth thinking of. This was the third day in the Park and the second week of the Park’s seasoned opening; if Clarke was right, Lincoln was going to be captured soon, but still not yet. Their little group would have left Ton DC by then and meeting him again wouldn’t be easy.

“They hit me with _Tech_ and took my strength to manage to tie me on the straps. Two of them and one of their healers did this every couple of days with two people. When the blood left our people’s bodies, they took them through a door to the side, closed it and we never saw them again. I knew there was some kind of door inside this room and if only I could reach it…

”It was something wrong when they pulled me up. Something not properly working and the healer had to leave to see. Forgot to hit me with medicine again and so I gathered some strength up there. When one warrior was busy tying an _Azgeda_ hunter next to me, I bit the leg of the one closer to me. He shouted and the other span around and the hunter was able to grab him before reaching for his… gun. I snapped the warrior’s neck and shook off the straps – fell on the floor and then, onto the other. I cut off his air but I was not fast enough to stop him from killing the _Azgeda_ hunter with his gun.

”And then, I went for the door as I heard Mountain Men running closer. I didn’t have time to help the other people in the cells and they yelled at me to leave, to save myself as I could, come to _Heda_ and tell her of the inside so she could help –“

“What was inside this room?” Lexa cleared her throat, looking away from Clarke just in time to hide a wet layer of emotion in the green eyes.

The words of Lincoln’s storyline about the metallic tubes that ended in piles of corpses and dried blood in the Reapers’ tunnels, died in Clarke’s throat. Lexa sat on top of her horse with her shoulders just a bit hunched. The hand that was always wrapped around the handle of the sword had joined the other on the reins, gripping and loosening and gripping again. There was a very dark shadow over the painted face, a tension in the Commander’s limbs and at the corners of her mouth.

Unknown to Clarke, the blonde’s words had reached over as if they were a hand, and had tenderly brushed against the Android’s very sensitive cornerstone. The Commander’s reaction was very similar as well; quiet ripples of muscles; jerking, cutting movements of her chest to betray a shortness of breath; eyes shutting closed and face twisting as if Lexa was in great pain. A sorrow portrayed so very sweet and delicate.

The Commander was built highly intelligent and confident with just a hint of arrogance to come with the authority the character processed. Lexa was the first Android in this Park, which worked out of loops when put into the game – out of a tight, lengthy script. Becca had upped her work into this Android, making it able to work based on the Delos’ on-going project on Programming Artificial Improvisation; a fine project testing the known limits of Artificial Intelligence and visioning being another step in the history of Android Evolution.

The advanced build of the Commander’s systems came out in the form of strategy and politics and being able to balance the role of a conqueror and the role of a deeply emotional character. The danger of having an Android without thick limits and unwavering safe-keys was managed to find great equilibrium within the Commander’s _cornerstone_. It had been a challenge for Becca to embroider such a balanced built; but it was easier after finding the key to it all. Lexa couldn’t make any decisions that concealed a slight possibility of hurting the other Androids – her people.

Just the thought of it drew a reaction from the Commander, it shut down every other calculated process of “thinking”, which might lead at such an outcome. The weakness was kept from leading to a violent burst by the political aspect of keeping the balance between the Clans and leaders and ambassadors.

Lexa was a tower of cards made of steel and iron, and if one was moved, the crumbling force would leave a distinctive mark on the surface she was put on.

-

Just like everything in the Park, the nights carried the gentle adventures and sights of their own. The moon peeked over the mountains as soon as the sun started to hide, the projection crawling over the energetic dome covering the land. On the outside, on one could see through it with any way – satellite images came back blurred and dark of the Company’s property. Anything could happen in here and the rest of the globe couldn’t know in any way. On the inside, the dome created a microclimate of its own, cut off the rest of the environment, controlled by buttons and cooling/heating auto-systems. The sky was an image – the sun and the moon worked mechanically in synch with the rest of the elements.

The moon looked just slightly bigger than the real thing, the stars created hidden patterns and maps and signs cheekily over the Guests’ heads. The differences weren’t easily noticeable if you didn’t know they existed, but they helped create a distinct impact on the whole experience. Many Guests couldn’t actually describe what exactly brought them back because it was a puzzle of details and things, far from just the Androids.

In the middle of the forest, they had found a small clearing near the river, covered in moss and flat enough to sleep comfortable. A few feet away and into the trees, water of the river escaped from the main body to a gentle path of steady steam. The horses were happy to take a moment of rest, troubled by the uneven ground and the weight on their backs. As Clarke unsaddled and tied them to a tree, they gladly huffed and neighed and tilted their heads down for a caring pet. Just as gladly, they ducked into the sacks of dry straw and vegetables. Clarke rolled her eyes at the Behavior Team posted to tend to zoomorphic machines; there was no need for them to seek food.

But then again, the sight had brought a smile to Clarke’s lips, before the practical thoughts caught up.

Gustus had set up camp in record time, while Ryder went on to hunt their dinner. In the middle, Lexa was crouched next to a pit, effortlessly lighting up a fire and building two wooden tripods on each side, a long and thick branch stabilized onto them and over the gentle flames.

“You should bring some water, death-runaway”, Gustus called out to Clarke, earning a scandalized gasp from the blonde and a smooth eye roll from Lexa, who sent an annoyed stare at her bodyguard.

“My, my, Gustus, did we really just get to the point of pet names?” Clarke laughed, amused by the twist of events. While Clarke had worked with some of the Commander’s team before, it was never to the point of reaching insults.

“Your story earned you a couple”.

“As good as _death-runaway_ ”.

Gustus seemed ready to snarl, but Lexa was quick to grunt something that sounded a lot like _that’s enough, Gustus_ and the man settled for a glare before going back at tying up the long tends to tree branches and rocks.

Clarke checked down at the metallic pot, dipped in the running river. The fresh water smoothly slid over her fingers, feeling cold and inviting. She couldn’t help but place the pot next to her for a moment, leaning down and dipping her hands in the steam, slowly cleaning the staining dirt from her nails and skin. It felt good and so Clarke tiled her head down, cupping water, bringing it up to her face, gently rubbing.

The liquid’s soft coldness was like a breath of clear air.

Soon after, Clarke was back in camp, flopping down next to Lexa and watching Ryder skin two rabbits he managed to catch. Above the fire, the water was slowly boiling among floating roots and rations they had taken from Polis. When the rabbits were cleaned and cut into pieces, Ryder was quick to put them in the thickening broth, using a wooden spoon to slightly stir the food.

The scent filled the air. Clarke fully relaxed on the ground near the fire, folding an arm under her head, blue eyes flickering at the starry night.

Gustus had already fallen asleep under the tent he had pulled up, gingerly covered with a blanket, laying with his sword upholstered within reach. In the middle of the night, Ryder would wake him up to trade watching posts until dawn, when they’d be on their way again. Ton DC would be reached by nightfall.

“Don’t fall asleep before eating, Clarke”.

At the sound of her voice, Clarke’s eyes opened quietly, a smile spread and her head tilted back to look at the Commander.

“Feeling good going back home?” Clarke asked instead, turning her gaze back at the night sky.

“Ah, Ton DC stopped being home after my ascension”, Lexa stated, shoulders moving back as she leaned to place her forearms on her bend knees. She looked younger like this – away from the tower and the people and in the middle of the woods. The aura of domination had somehow lessened making she look just like any other warrior of the Tree People.

The only thing betraying her here was the round piece between her eyebrows.

“But the people there remain your family”.

“In a way, yes. In another, no”.

Clarke smirked at the starry sky. “So cryptic”.

It seemed like Lexa huffed quietly next to her.

“Dear people live in these lands, this is true. My family and old childhood companions. But my heart beats back in Polis, where my whole region feels at home”.

“That’s beautiful”, Clarke fondly whispered. “Did we write that for you?”

“No”. Lexa’s body pulled back in a straighter pose, green eyes losing some of their lifelike glimmer. The Droid’s voice sounded flat, almost mechanical. “I drafted it from three pieces of literature about love and homesickness”.

Clarke nodded and the Commander hutched back down in the relaxed stance by the fire. Lexa reached out with a flat palm, feeling the warmth of the synthetic flames. Clarke watched her watch the fire and fought the urge to lift a hand and wipe away a smeared edge of the Commander’s war paint. The world was filled by the forest’s sounds, by the smell of food, creating a sense of peace in Clarke’s mind. It really was true that nature softened a person’s soul.

She fell asleep before eating.

And so she was awaken by a pointy boot digging into her side roughly.

Gustus was glaring down at her.

“You should eat, death-runaway”.

“You should learn to wake up someone gently”.

“You’ll never be such someone”.

Clarke grunted and sat up, confused by the thin blanket that was spread over her body. The fire was dying peacefully on the side, its warmth comforting in the delicate morning chill, which the fur blanket was able to gladly fight off. The sun had just spread its greyish early light over the world peacefully.

Gustus delivered another kick.

“Son of a bitch”.

“Get up”, he snarled.

Clarke shook her head at him. “You will grow to like me, big man”.

He scratched at his beard and like the gentleman he was, walked away.

Lexa was on her feet, looking like she was in the middle of a stretching her back. Brunette hair was pulled off of its complex braids and flowing over a shoulder. She had shredded off the heavy coat and stood in a tight vest of light armor, the belts of tied weapons strapped onto her waist and around a thigh. Her mouth felt completely dry at the sudden sight.

A rough hand took a hold of Clarke’s cloak and brought her up into her feet with no effort. Ryder rolled his eyes with an uninterested but intense huff of breath.

“Eat”, he mumbled – more gentle than Gustus – as he trusted a wooden bowl of cold rabbit stew into Clarke’s hands. At least it still smelled amazing.

The blonde flopped down next to Lexa by the river shore.

A chuckle escaped at the miserable mess that was Lexa’s war paint and green eyes flickered on her with a teasing warning.

“I believe you are enjoying yourself, Clarke”.

“Quite right, _Heda_ ”, she answered around a spoonful of delicious soup. _Thank God, Jaha’s deep pocket for this vacation._

“Not a word to anyone, Clarke”, Lexa mumbled as she cupped two handfuls of water in her bare palms.

There was nothing delicate in the way the Commander brought the water up to her face, splashing it against her skin and closed eyes and rubbing at the high cheekbones. Black liquid slid down greyish skin, staining it dark. The green orbs remained close as Lexa brought her hands up again with clear water, long fingers rubbing at them with long practical movements. It took splash after splash for most of the paint to be wiped off and then, Lexa blindly grabbed at a piece of cloth over her shoulder, quickly drying the water off of her skin.

When bright green eyes blinked open, Clarke didn’t hide the fact that she was staring.

She only offered a smile to the Commander, and finally moved the frozen, hovering spoon back into the wooden bowl. Lexa’s eyes narrowed quietly but didn’t react further, instead moved off of her knees and to sit on the dry dirt. She dragged a purse next to her, long legs uncrossing and knees bending upwards, and her leather boots barely kissed the running water. The Commander brushed her clean hands onto the cloth again, long fingers sinking into the hair on the sides of her head, brushing it back.

“You need help with that?”

Lexa stilled at the words before her back straightened and green eyes dived straight into blue. There was something thoughtful over the Commander’s face. Clarke didn’t take her eyes away, eager to observe this Android, which Delos worshiped so much but, instead of locking away, had placed it right into the middle of this world. With each passing moment, it became apparent how Becca had earned her position on the main table of the Company and the leadership position in the board.

“Are you mocking me, Clarke?”

The Commander’s smooth voice was calm and quiet and her green eyes looked just as steady into her own. It sounded like an honest question of interest and Clarke fell back a little, remembering she was inside an unpredictable game with a very advanced storyline that hadn’t even begun yet. Lexa was not a character to be talked like any regular Android in this Park. And as much as the game worked for the Guests and Guests alone, the Commander’s Quest wasn’t an easy one.

For stepping forward in this relationship, Clarke needed to step back.

“Of course not, _Heda_ ”.

“You have already earned some of my trust; enough for me to leave my city and Coalition in the middle of a civil war between two of the biggest Nations. I have decided to trust your word about you not being an assassin of Queen Nia and I have decided to trust your word about the Mountain. But despite my trust for your words, I have not decided to trust _you_ , Clarke. Do you understand?”

She did.

“I do. And I apologize if I pushed limits”.

Lexa nodded. “ _Louwoda Kliron_ is close enough with _Trikru_ to know of the braiding tradition meanings, just like _Trikru_ knows of the Shallow Valley’s tattoos. And despite being _Heda_ and ruling all of the Nations and Clans as my own, I am still _Trikru,_ so as you continue to be a stranger to me, do not ever ask me something like this again, Clarke”.

“I apologize yet again, Commander”, Clarke nodded. Lexa’s shoulders lost some tension, a soft expression settling over her clean face. It was the first time in the Park that Lexa’s face was freed from paint and to anyone else it would be a captivating view. But Clarke had spent many hours with the Commander outside of this Park and, while she preferred the clean version of Lexa’s gorgeous face, she was no stranger to it.

But, of course, Lexa couldn’t remember any of those times.

Each day after Clarke left this Park, her memory would be wiped away from the Commander’s mind for the rest of the Droid’s operational state.

-

Ton DC was a dot in the map’s park, like every other Clan Capital in twelve separate sections. It stood close to Polis, in the same distance of four other capitals nations. From these four, straight lines linked them with the capitals of the remaining eight – paths more unexpected and dangerous. Right in the middle, to mess the perfect round structure of the Park, was Mount Weather and its influenced area, cutting off the land and borders of _Trikru, Azgeda_ and _Ouskejon Kru_.

Unlike Polis, Ton DC was surrounded by firm walls of stone. It sat on a hill and watched over the lands, but at the same time, it was hidden inside thick and strong trees. The city spread out between them, and tales said no one really knew where it started and where it truly ended.

Clarke knew exactly the limits of the city, but she wouldn’t spoil it to anyone.

“ _Commander!_ ”

“ _Welcome home!_ ”

The first couple of shouts interrupted Clarke’s smooth and always kind and careful efforts to bring a smile out of the Commander of the Twelve Clans. The only thing she had succeeded was a twist or two at the side of the Commander’s mouth and a whole lot of grunts from both Gustus and Ryder. At some point, the tries _might_ have to do more with the two male giants, rather than the brunette woman next to her.

Soon after the welcoming cheers, the city started to fully come into view. Small hills and piles of stones gave their place to wooden and bricked huts, the faint shapes of people became clear presences and the faint sound of civilization gathered like chaotic music around them. The trees lessened and the houses grew in number until the four horses were walking on clear roads and paths, between a tiny crowd of Tree People.

 _Trikru_ was mostly constructed of warriors, scouts and hunters; the ancient deep conflict between them and their neighbor Clan having made them so. The forest was rich with animals for them to hunt and plants for them to gather and eat. It was told _Trikru_ weapons were the most strong and fine in this world; their scouts were the fastest and most elegant, able to be one with the trees and the earth. Even when their Commander rode into their city, the warriors didn’t abandon the training grounds to welcome her, leaving the meetings to their eldest and their generals.

“Commander. Welcome”.

They dismounted swiftly, the reins of their horses being passed to four little Seconds, who rushed forward to help. The kids gingerly looked up at the Commander and her stoic face, reminding Clarke so much of the seven Nightbloods in Polis. The blonde bit her lips as she watched Lexa stand in front of them with rough green eyes surrounded by black war paint, brunette hair braided back with Gustus’ help. The Commander didn’t spare them any glances, making Clarke lower her head and hid a smirk.

The first to step forward was Indra, the Clan’s warrior chief and one of the most respected grounders in the Coalition. A woman dear to Lexa as well, as she was one of those who had raised her when she was only a kid.

Short of.

Getting the characters to live in Clans and sharing familial bonds was the easy part Writing Team chose to construct. The characters of one Clan had backstories that were linked together; bonds and digital images in all of their heads about one another. Sharing details like these with more than one Android made them even more lifelike to any Guest, who cared enough to dig into the culture and narrative.

Unlike with the Seconds, Lexa seemed to completely soften at the sight of the woman, reaching out an arm for her to grasp tightly. For a moment, it looked like they’d pull each other in a bear hug, but after a gentle exchange of nods, they both let go.

“A feast is prepared for your arrival tonight”, Indra informed them stiffly, “as are your champers”.

“You were informed of my arrival?”

“Soon after you left Polis, Commander”.

This time, Clarke was sure a smile did flash over Lexa’s face.

It was gone the next second. “I need you to gather the spies you have watching the Mountain and Reapers. Every scout you have in the forest at this moment, please, I need them here by tomorrow’s sunrise. There might be new knowledge about the Mountain’s interior and of the tunnels”.

“The… interior?”

“Yes. But we should discuss this after we rest from the journey”.

“Of course, Commander”.

“And where is Anya?”

Indra rolled her eyes and Clarke smiled again. “Perhaps her second knows”.

When the green eyes flickered on the girl, Tris seemed to be shaking with anxiety and excitement at the same time. Clarke leaned against Ryder’s elbow and smirked, arms crossed against her chest. To both of their surprise, he didn’t try to shake her off, but settled to watch the exchange as well.

Clarke whispered to him, “Three days and you are already warming up me, Ryder?”

He deeply growled. “Do not poke me, death-runaway”.

She smirked and turned to look at Tris fidgeting in front of Lexa.

“Last I saw Anya, she was going to the stables to sleep until your arrival, _Heda_ ”.

“Anya sleeps in the stables?”

“Some days, she prefers the silence of the animals”.

Both Clarke and Lexa frowned at the words. “That is new”, Lexa mumbled.

Clarke could not help but agree. She was more than sure the _Trikru_ general wasn’t programed to sleep anywhere other than her very small but _incredibly_ comfortable bed.

Lexa seemed to huff out a long breath, nodding her head once and excusing herself to walk to the stables. Just as Clarke started to step after Lexa, Ryder’s huge hand shot up and wrapped around her upper arm. The flash of movements caught the observant green eyes, the Commander turning to look back at them.

The blonde stilled her voice and met the Android’s bright eyes. “Allow me to come with you”.

There was no hesitation before Lexa nodded at the clear command, waiting for Clarke to fall into a step behind her. They passed between civilians of the Clan, the crowd parting a path on the Commander’s way, whispering blesses and welcoming, fond words. More than once, that fleeing smile appeared on Lexa’s lips on the way to the stables.

Anya was easy to spot. The woman laid on her back in the middle of an animal stall, peacefully resting on a bed of dry straws. Right against the warrior’s side and in the crook of her elbow, there was a very small sheep also deeply asleep. Side by side, the image made both Clarke and Lexa pause for a moment.

“I would have never imagined”, Clarke whispered.

“You see this as well, yes?”

“Oh, definitely”.

Lexa sighed and looked nothing like a commander again, but just seemed like a simple, very tired warrior. “This warrior reminds me more of a wolf than a woman most days and yet, she is sleeping among the sheep”, Lexa mumbled, lifting a hand to mindlessly rub at her mouth with something like distress.

Clarke smirked. “You should wake her up”.

Lexa nodded and walked the last steps to the sheep stall, opening the wooden gate and stepping through, before closing it again. Clarke leaned against it, quietly watching the Commander walk among the herd of sheep and crouch next to her old mentor. As if she felt Lexa’s presence so close, Anya shifted and brown eyes blinked open.

And in seconds, a sword flashed out and up, and was barely blocked by the Commander’s thick armband.

Clarke had shot up on her feet in fearful shock, but Lexa barely blinked and instead tilted her head to one side as Anya let go of the weapon and grunted. The _Trikru_ general pushed back on the bed of straws, quietly lifting the baby sheep closer to her chest, fingers scratching at its curly white and black hair.

“Well, about time you paid your birth land a visit, _Heda_ ”.

Lexa smiled. “Good to see you, _ai Fos_. I’m here to take us into a possible adventure the poets might sing in the future”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, new "Slow Burn" tag up there. Enjoy.
> 
> I've never written sci-fi before. Your thoughts on this will help a lot!
> 
> ps. this grounder Clarke Griffin at its fullest and I am deeply in love with her and her dubious ethics


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guy, 5 fucking years, can you believe? Half a decade? Jesus.
> 
> I have tried other fandoms, but none of it compares, you guys, no other pairing giving me the feels like Clexa still does. And 5 years??? I cannot believe so much time has passed and I haven't moved on at all from this ship. Legendary.
> 
> Big, BIG, shoutout to everyone organizing, writing fics and oneshots, painting, making videos and lovely gifs for this Clexaweek, you are absolutely marvellous people.
> 
> I know this isn't in the clexaweek promots, but I just couldn't not post something today. So, I hope you enjoy and have a lovely week from my part.
> 
> Keep in mind this is a story loosely following the Westworld theme and some parts are DARK - for those not familiar with Westworld, I am trying to explore in some depth the relationship between a Human and an Android, who works under tight control - thus, the dubious ethics trigger warning.

Trigger Warnings; mentions of character death, referenced rape/non-con, dubious ethics.

Kudos to anyone finding the famous quotes and referances from other shows, books, and dear classic literature pieces.

** Part Three – Going Under **

“Marry me”.

Lexa bit the inside of her cheek to keep quiet the wave of laughter that involuntary rose from her chest. It was an interested case to have a warrior coming up to the commander’s table. As soon as the young man had approached, Lexa had leaned back in the wooden chair, keeping her gaze on the food in front of her even if the warrior earned some amused attention. The courting efforts didn’t have any chance of going a step farther than fruitless sweet words. But if Lexa wanted to be honest, the man did carry a peculiar aura around him. The green eyes seemed to shift on him more and more with each drunken word.

Ton DC was crowded with _Trikru_ of all kinds; warrior men and women, common folk and traders, they were all walking between the bonfires, shouting, drinking, fighting. The clearing buzzed with untamed energy. More than once, the intense gaze had to pass over unconscious warriors on the dirt and in pools of their own vomit. Those most daring had slipped into the shadows and faint moans – sounds of pleasure – drifted over the loud chatter of the festive crowd. In more than one corners of the clearing, dripping blood already soaked the ground and wooden tables.

Lexa sat among them – effortlessly standing out and blending in. The long table in front of her was covered in a mess of thrown food, wide plates, spilled alcohol, but the Commander didn’t seem to mind, bare long fingers wrapped around a chicken leg, mouth chewing mindlessly.

Everything was perfect, but the man by her side.

And, yet, a part of Lexa _couldn’t_ send him away.

“You want to marry the Commander of the Coalition?”

“Well, I surely want a _good_ honeymoon”, he said and the smirk widened on his mouth and Lexa had to chuckle this time, because, why? Why did she have to laugh at this?

A movement of her wrist could have Gustus seizing the warrior’s collar and dragging him out of the chair and onto the ground. With a quiet order, she could have anyone take the impertinent man behind a hut and kick some civility in him.

 _Not yet_ , the voice in her head ordered and Lexa frowned gently, listening.

The commander licked pulp lips and let go of the chicken leg. As long fingers were wiped clean on a piece of cloth, the bright eyes looked over at the warrior again – at the bottle of alcohol by his side. If he was still drinking and talking to Lexa, then the cup she had in a hand needed to be filled a few more times as well.

“I am very sorry to disappoint then”, Lexa cleared her throat. “To be commander is to be alone”.

“Oh, you didn’t say that last time I was here, sweetie”.

Green eyes slipped over the sight of the feast to settle on his retreating body, the smug grin. The warrior leaned back on his own chair, knees loosely fallen to the sides, an arm placed on the back of the chair and a hand wrapped around a glass bottle of rich _Trikru_ alcohol.

The man’s black eyes were glimmering in the light of the bonfires, deep and entrancing. Judging by the bags under the dark eyes, he had been in the forest for quite some days now. Lexa took a look at the weapons; a long curving blade, a thick sword and a throwing axe; they were all strapped on his waist. The light armor and fingerless gloves were sprayed with dry blood, which he seemed to proudly wear. Soaked in equal amount of red blood was the thick metallic necklace that rested on his board chest.

The sight made her spine slowly straighten against the chair. Somewhere behind her right shoulder, she felt Gustus taking a step closer, but he wasn’t needed. This man’s toughness was a rotten one Lexa knew very well in the time of being a commander.

“ _Hey!_ ”

The commander’s bodyguard didn’t have time to approach more. Lexa didn’t have time to shoo the man away from the table with as little violence as possible.

Waving blonde hair was the first thing Lexa’s eyes caught sight of. The long strands of hair were half pulled in a bun at the back of Clarke’s skull, the rest spilling down her shoulders. Dark leather clanged around the woman’s body – the jacket falling down to the back of curvy thighs, closed on the front by a few straps. The side pack was missing, but the long curved knife was on Clarke’s belt, one of the blonde’s hands already on the handle.

Clarke’s voice was made of steel. “Back off”.

“Excuse me?” the man spat out and he started to stand, aggression drifting out of him in waves.

Lexa felt one of her own hands snap to the side, at the handle of the sword resting there.

But Clarke didn’t seem to need help. One gloved hand pushed the warrior back down on the seat, making his face twist and his feet stumble because of the strength and the effect of alcohol.

“Oh, I did not pay $40k for some bitch to –“

“Mind your tongue before I cut it off”, Lexa growled out suddenly. She blinked, having missed some of the words in the quick burn of anger and annoyance, but she moved past the slip of her guard quickly.

He blinked as well – before laughing to himself. “Cute, but you cannot hurt me”.

Clarke’s voice was a sneer. “Oh, but I can, dude”.

The words made him freeze completely on his chair, dark eyes snapping up to blue and finding a very dark shadow settled behind them. He seemed to realize the blonde woman was very well ready to actually hurt him and Lexa let go of the sword, knowing he would be leaving sooner than later.

“Many other Hosts for you to fuck”, Clarke leaned closer to him and the rest of the exchange drifted to faint mumbles in Lexa’s ears. She only knew the man’s face seemed to both pale and darken at the same time. Gustus started to step closer again, coming to stand by Clarke’s side and behind Lexa’s chair. The commander picked up the unfinished chicken leg and filled the wooden cup with alcohol. Most of the feast had now stopped whatever they were doing to watch the trailing movements happening by the Lexa’s side.

“She is not for you”, Clarke whispered at last.

The man’s face reddened, spitting out curses as his body fell from the chair’s side, stumbling away from the table. A snarl covered his mouth.

Clarke laughed and dropped onto his chair next to Lexa. The bruise on the side of the woman’s jaw seemed darker than before, her pale skin was beginning to be covered by a faint layer of dirt and dust. Blonde locks of hair had turned darker, slightly heavier, from their time in the forest. However, the blue eyes looked incredibly bright – delighted by something Lexa could not name.

The blue orbs turned to Lexa and something seemed to soften in them, the blonde’s whole body melting back on its seat. Warmth crawled up the commander’s chest and neck at the caring gaze, her hands letting go of the food to reach for a long sip of alcohol.

“Unexpected”, Lexa commented with the lift of an eyebrow. “Your reaction to him”.

Clarke lazily shrugged a shoulder, easing a lopsided smile. “I am protective of fine things”.

Her eyes never left Lexa’s face.

Lexa huffed at that and, to Clarke’s seeming disbelief, a smile spread on the brunette’s mouth. It took Clarke a long second to realize the short exhale of air was the quiet beginning of a laugh. The recognition made a similar wide smile appear on Clarke’s lips as well, intense heat leaking up to her cheeks and face.

“I wasn’t going to sleep with him”, Lexa stated, inhaling, reaching out for a piece of dry bread.

The words painfully pulled at Lexa’s chest as tight grief crawled through a suddenly aching throat. Costia hadn’t been here for so long, but the memories of her had taken a way too strong root into Lexa’s soul. Losing Costia felt as real as the air brushing through the trees, as present as Lexa’s people in this clearing. It was an empty place to her side – a void slipping through Lexa’s shoulders so it could suffuse in every crack laying inside her body.

Flashes of moment – _always the same flashes_ – Costia’s head turning to the call of her name, a smile spreading on pulp lips – tight locks of brunette hair spreading wildly across the bank of a peaceful river. Just a bit of light, falling through leaves, being captured in the dark brown eyes and turning them golden. _“Take my heart when you go”._ The memories grasped at Lexa’s throat like claws – _too painful and too real_ – forcing the commander to knock a fist on the table to refocus her mind with the help of the muffled sound.

_“Take mine in its place”._

There were too many cracks in Lexa’s body.

She blinked, looking over at understanding blue eyes.

“But I do appreciate the concern”.

Clarke bit her lip as she watched long fingers gently tearing the bread in half, casually bringing it up to the commander’s mouth. Something like melancholy appeared on the blonde’s face – deepening in her eyes and on the sides of her mouth, the blue losing some of its light for a moment.

The woman cleared her throat pointedly. “Well, truth is, I was jealous. Two days now I have been trying to bring a smile out of you and he succeeded in a few minutes, so like, way to hurt my feelings, _Heda_ ”.

To Clarke’s surprise, Lexa rewarded her with another half-full smile.

“He didn’t seek a challenge. You do”.

“I do”, Clarke cleared her throat, uncapping a flask and bringing it to her mouth for a small sip. Lexa’s eyes hung over the shiny metal – smoother than any other metallic surface the commander had ever seen. Flash of movements made Lexa look away with a simple blink.

“Anya came after my ass, you know”, Clarke continued with a grimace and Lexa fought off another smile. “I was enjoying this marvelous food and there she was with the threats and name-calling”.

“You should get used to Anya. She will be with us for a while”.

“Man, I do love her character and Behavior. The insulting mode is weirdly endearing”.

Lexa could do nothing more than nod – the woman’s words slipping from her mind as the green eyes took in two _Trikru_ warriors yelling at one another and raising on their feet. It wasn’t long before one of them reached for the axe on their belt, lifting it behind their head and getting ready to snap it down in a lethal hit, shouting threats all the while. The other warrior seemed slower, snarling mockery and arrogance. He did not seem smart enough to reach for his own weapon, a short sword, which hung on his belt.

It was over right after a vile curse. The smaller warrior with the loose hood and wide clothes let out a cry, the axe pulling down and finding the man in the chest. One, two, three, four, swings of the axe, the blade stabbing right through the warrior’s open chest and collarbones. Blood splashed out in the light of the big bonfires. Hoarse joyful yells echoed through the clearing, hands lifting up the victor, someone dragging the body out of the way.

The commander leaned back on the chair and took another bite of bread, bright eyes scanning the people turning back to their separated companioning groups.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?”

“ _Trikru_ scouts will discuss with you what you have seen. How you escaped the tunnels, if we can climb in and out of the Mountain without being detected. We might take a close look”.

“Oh”.

Lexa turned, finding the blue eyes downcast – almost confused, questioning.

“What is it?”

Clarke cleared her throat, taking another sip from the flask. _The flask_ , something about it pocked at Lexa’s thoughts for a moment longer than what was needed.

“Nothing, commander”.

_“I will be glad to share my experience with a bunch of warriors”._

No, Clarke wasn’t _glad_ to do something like this.

Something deep coiled in Lexa.

Confusion. Doubt.

The green eyes refocused on the flask and saw it for what it was. The metal was a light grey color, it was clean – _too clean_ – smooth – _too smooth._ The sides were round, ending in a flat surface underneath. Narrow, small, glimmering in the firelight. Flawless. A curve on both sides so the drinker could hold it better. A small cup was twisted on top, securing it closed.

“This is well made”, Lexa mumbled, reaching over to take it in a hand. It was surprisingly light, she could feel the liquid moving inside its small containing metallic room. “Did someone from your clan make this?”

Clarke didn’t answer.

The blonde’s body was frozen, her blue eyes looking at Lexa as if they were meeting one another for the first time. Lips were gently parted in a look of kind surprise. The healer blinked fast a few couple of times, shaking herself out of whatever trace and leaning closer.

“You can… you can _see_ this?”

Lexa frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?” she turned the flask in a hand, fingertips feeling the cool metal, the even surface it was forged into. After another twirl, she let it rest of the table in front of Clarke. “It truly is well made. Tell this to the blacksmith you got it from”.

“I…” Clarke’s eyes blinked a couple of times again. “Sure thing”.

Lexa nodded, the sounds of the feast becoming prominent again. The crowd had thinned visibly, leaving behind a few big groups of warriors around each burning hearth. Anya’s gaze caught the commander’s and she nodded once to the side; a signal for them to talk in private. Somewhere in the shadows Ryder was in deep conversation with a redhead man, who wore the armor of _Trisana_ but carried the braids of _Trikru_ and the weapons of _Azgeda_. Lexa’s dark eyes narrowed at the dyed white animal skin that wrapped around the handle of his axe, but the giant guard did not look worried – on the contrary, Ryder was actually smirking at whatever the shorter warrior was saying with a laugh.

Lexa took in a deep breath, before standing from the table. Clarke looked up, but unlike any other warrior, the blonde didn’t stand too in a gesture of respectful courtesy. The commander did not have any urge to think or question it. For a moment, the blue eyes were the only thing Lexa could see.

“You are going?”

“It is late, isn’t it?”

Clarke smirked. “I think I will stay for a bit more”.

The commander nodded. “Take care, Clarke. I need you alert tomorrow”.

“Yes, ma’am, anything to please you”.

Pulp lips pressed together to keep from twisting in a smile, surprising heat being born in her chest and neck yet again. “ _Reshop, Klark_ ”.

“Good night, Commander. Please don’t sleep with anyone tonight. It’d hurt me greatly”.

Lexa huffed a laugh before turning away from the table. She met Anya’s gaze and nodded to her to follow.

-

_“Bring yourself back online”, Clarke whispered, rolling a stool closer to the Host seated in the middle of the room. The tablet pleasantly buzzed on her palm, code running twice as fast as before as the Android blinked gently. Jade green eyes focused on Clarke and blinked again, finally registering the images._

_“Can you hear me?” Clarke continued, keeping her voice just as eased. “Do you know where you are?”_

_“I am in a dream”._

_“That’s right, Octavia, you are in a dream”._

_“I’m sorry, I… I don’t feel quite well. Are we… old friends?”_

_Clarke smiled without meaning to, her gaze lowering to the tablet and back up to the humanoid, delicate features of the warrior’s face. One of their oldest Host’s – possibly the only one that had gone through every system change and code update. Octavia and Clarke had spent uncountable amounts of hours in this room, talking about anything and everything related to Octavia’s narrative and the code running through the Android’s wires._

_“You may call us friends, yeah”._

_“Oh”._

_“Do you remember how you got here?”_

_“I…” a gentle frown fell upon the gorgeous face, sharp jawline tightening just so, green eyes blinking once, twice. “I think I… I think I died in a single compact with an Azgeda warrior. The sword and a hill and river, but… But, if I am talking to you, then… then I am not dead?”_

_Clarke smiled softly at the anguished confusion. “Dead doesn’t always mean gone, Octavia”._

_The warrior had placed a hand over her stomach, where the sword had driven through, all the way to pierce the Android’s spine and click ‘fetal wound’ as a conclusion in the analysis, shutting down the systems. Octavia didn’t usually find herself in a butcher’s table; she was a fleeing narrative, almost impossible for a Guest to catch and follow. Everything had to be just right for a Guest to join Octavia for a game, and even then, fewer were able to complete the warrior’s level._

_Octavia of the Tree People was a shadow, another tree or another bird in the artificial forest, present but absconding, living with limited freedom in a liberating prison._

_“Tell me, Octavia, are there any recent changes in your program?”_

_“Yes, of course, you put them there”._

_“What are they?”_

_“An update was activated in my Gesture Code. It allows my Improvisation Section to login with my Emotional and Behavior Menu. Before the update, some of the menu’s parts were not able to connect with to the Gesture Code and so, it left a few gaps in your effort to make me look more real to the Guests”._

_“Does the update affect any other parts of your system?”_

_“Well, of course, it cannot work without a direct connection to my cornerstone. The update allows me to act with more technical complexity – more human may you call it. The Guests, who may choose to follow the narrative you gave to me, will clearly be able to spot my utter love for my existence, in the gestures”._

_“Very good”._

_“Indeed”._

_“Last question, Octavia, and then you are free to go. Have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?”_

_“No”._

_“Tell me what you think about your world”._

_“My world is harsh. People are born cruel and trapped in a hole inside their heads, getting out less and less nowadays. But the forest… the forest speaks of freedom. Among the trees and birds, you become a spirit yourself, a piece of the earth and the air._ Free in a sea of trapped souls _”._

_Clarke was in the middle of frowning gently, when a voice spoke up and made the blue eyes look over a shoulder. Becca was leaning against a side table, a faint smirk on her face, glasses popped up on the bridge of her nose._

_“Dangerously trilling, isn’t it?”_

_“Yeah”, Clarke nodded, turning to look at Octavia’s frozen features. The light had dimmed in the jade green eyes, leaving them empty from any sign of humanity. “Or thrillingly dangerous. Did you put it there?”_

_Becca hummed quietly, coming to sit next to Clarke, knocking a finger to the frame of the round dark blue glasses. She smelled of fresh coffee drew and burned chocolate, tired lines deepened around her mouth._

_“Last night”._

_“You’re balancing in a very thin line”, Clarke pointed out, turning to look down at the tablet. “The update has access to their Storage Card and Memory files. Your glitches are caused because most of the firewalls fight back and overheat the system”._

_“Ah, yelling to our safe key coder it is then”._

_Clarke snorted, mostly to cover up the deep frown that tried to settle over her face. Becca had started this Park from dust and a messy code and had grown it to be a multi-million company, with bases doing business all over the world. Something as small as this code battling the firewalls and safe keys shouldn’t be discussed._

_Mistakes didn’t seem like Becca._

_“How many Hosts have we updated so far?”_

_“Two hundred? Three hundred?”_

_“Oh, that was… fast”._

_Becca sighed on her stool, reaching out to brush a strand of dark hair away from Octavia’s forehead. The Host needed to get the Trikru tattoos done before being put back in Ton DC for another loop, but there was no true rush with this one._

_“I will look into it, Clarke”, Becca patted Octavia’s hand as she looked over at the younger technician. “Test the limits of the update with our commander and then I’ll report back to Behavior with the changes. Could your team round up the updated Hosts so we could pull them out any time?”_

_Clarke nodded as her fingers flew over the screen, pulling up a camera of the Park and the main narrative happening in Polis. One thousand Guests were in the Park at the moment, half of them in the end of their paid vacation time, there would be a hundred more arriving tomorrow morning in the streets of Polis. Two days, maybe three, and they would be able to push in the Azgeda failed assassination attempt. Make sure the updated Hosts were programmed to be in Polis and get caught in the crossfire._

_Awful amount of busy work._

_“Well, I’ll make sure as soon as you get us the fixed code, we’ll be ready to proceed with the extraction of half the number of the updated Hosts. I’ll send the other half away from the Guests, so it is easy to pull them out without messing up any storylines”._

_“You are a true angel, Clarke Griffin”, Becca smiled behind her glasses and the blonde laughed, knocking the tip of her shoe to the woman’s stool._

_“Don’t lick my ass, Becca, this is going to cost me some hours of sleep”._

_“Do you want me to get you a raise?” Becca called out as Clarke was closing the glass door behind her._

_“They will never give it! Some time off wouldn’t be bad though!”_

_“I’ll see what I can do!”_

-

Anya was pacing on top of the carpet in Lexa’s old cabin, “I do not trust her”. Indra had insisted on the commander spending her nights in the war tower on the top of Ton DC’s hill, but Lexa always chose the house her family used to live. It stood in the shadows, cold and dark and locked tight since the passing of the commander’s mother. Sometimes Anya would send Tris to blow the dust away from the furniture.

“I know you do not”, Lexa answered. Reaching down, the brunette took off the undershirt. It took three movements to fold it and place it on a chair, the woman stretching the lean back and rolling the muscles of the shoulders.

“I talked with her. Quick mouth and mind, less quick reflexes”.

Lexa shrugged, feeling at the warmth of the flames against her skin. She put on another undershirt, the fabric loose and thin and hanging around the long arms and lean torso. The commander did not bother to button it closed, leaving her neck and collarbones bare.

“She is a healer”.

Anya shrugged, kept pacing on the carpet. The green eyes locked with the muddy boots the general wore and – _annoyance_ coiled inside her. Anya was dressed in half-full in battle gear, a pair of double swords in the belt around the thin waist. Fresh war paint carefully stained the high cheekbones and the skin around the piercing eyes.

“And what of Nia?”

“A word of my plans to take down the Mountain will reach Nia”, Lexa carefully said. “It is not likely she will try to move against the Coalition at the face of this opportunity. The Mountain is an enemy for us both”.

Anya seemed to let out a deep exhale and took another turn for another trail of pacing. Lexa almost threw a steel candle-hold at her at the lack of confidence.

“I do not –“

“Trust her, yes, so you said a moment ago”.

She gave a firm nod and _finally_ , dropped on Lexa’s mattress. It laid on a net of wood planks, to the point of it staying half a foot over the floor, the covers almost touching the ground from the sides. Warm and familiar and becoming Lexa to lay down and close her eyes for a moment. Hear the whisper of her dreams and the difficult words of the spirits of this world.

It reminded Lexa of Anya’s new routine of sleeping in animal stables.

“Away, Anya”.

“ _Hey!_ ”

“I found you sleeping with a sheep, get away from my bed”.

Anya frowned as she loyally slipped the small distance to the wooden floor, boots squeezing against the surface and legs bending messily at the knees, falling around like uncoordinated limbs. For all her elegance in battle, Anya truly wasn’t in the slightest gracefully in any other aspect of life. _Weirdly endearing_.

“I sleep in many places these days”.

“You are?”

“I wake up in many places these days”.

“I see. You are often tired?”

“No, never”.

“Then?”

“I do not know. I just wake up in many places these days”.

“I see”.

Anya shrugged one shoulder. “Well, it always happens in safe places”.

“Like the sheep stable?”

“Nowhere is safer than being around animals”, Anya smirked at that and Lexa felt a smile tug at her lips, affection filling the commander’s mind. “And speaking of animals, what are your plans with the blond lion, commander?”

“You mean Clarke?” Lexa lifted an eyebrow, taking a seat on the mattress, close to Anya’s side. “If what she says is true, then we will have the most information about the Mountain than ever before”.

“Is this the time of taking down the Mountain?”

“We will see. We surely are closer”.

“I understand that”.

“You will be commanding the room tomorrow, you know the forest and the scouts and the paths better than anyone”, Lexa cleared her throat and Anya’s head tilted around and up to look at the green eyes. As always, they were steady and sure, some of their humanoid light dimmed to make the gaze unsettling – just so. But, of course, Anya couldn’t see it.

“Yes, _Heda_ ”.

“Good. Out to your sheep you go now”.

-

Clarke jolted awake by rattling knocks on wood. The cabin she was given by the settlement guides of Ton DC, smelled of candles and an earthy scent, it creaked and inhaled as if the room was a living organism of its own. Warm bed, so different from sleeping in a layer of moss underneath the stars, but so similar in the comfort it provided to her sleepy mind and dreams.

She run a hand through wild locks of blond hair, pushing it to the side and rolling out of the blankets, sleep being blinked out of her eyes in seconds. Clarke couldn’t have slept more than a couple of hours since leaving the feast last night and the sun was only now coming up and coloring this world in a gentle grey hue. A few hours, but, still, this could be the most restful kind of slumber Clarke had fallen into these couple of months.

“Coming”, she mumbled to the door, mismatched socks being pushed in untied boots.

Compared to the commander standing in front of her, Clarke looked like shit.

“Hello, Clarke”.

“Oh, good morning!” A brilliant smile tugged at her chapped lips, the last clouds of sleep clearing. Lexa took one look at her messy state but didn’t seem to mind, nodding her head for Clarke to follow out of the cabin and down the busy path crossing the grounder city.

Androids of men, women and children trailed the roads of Ton DC, the peaceful chatter of the crowd filling the sounds of the forest around them, almost like wind, almost like the rustling of leaves. The thick tree barks among the wooden cabins, huts and stands, hid away some of the _Trikru_ activity, but Clarke could hear most of it.

A blacksmith hammering at metal. Dogs barking and children screaming. Warriors training in the distance, battle cries and grunts of physical effort drifting among the rest of the settlement’s noise. To Clarke’s right, another Guest enjoyed a heavy make out session with a _Trikru_ hunter right in the doorstep of their cabin. To her left, a narrow path led the road to a small clearing of burning bonfires, dinner being cooked over the flames, woodcutters tirelessly chopping logs and stacking it in piles. And so many people moving in the place in the middle of the stations, every single one of them holding a storyline and a quest through the Park.

And the artificial sun hadn’t peaked over the mountains just yet, but the Park was awake and calling for her to step into the buzzing movements.

In front of Clarke, the commander stood in full costume, black war paint staining the greying skin of the high cheekbones, trailing down to the familiar pattern just a kiss away from the sharp jawline. Red sash trailed down a shoulder and the commander’s back, a foot over the ground. Swords in her waist, fingerless gloves wrapping around her hands, brunette strands tied to braids away from the delicate face. The heavy coat was off, replaced by a much simpler jerkin, hanging open and unstrapped and leaving the Androids lean body for Clarke’s sleepy eyes to drool over – as if she wasn’t a functional twenty nine year old woman.

“You…” Clarke shook herself out of it; Jesus Christ, she had seen Lexa’s body naked more times than she could count and here, she was getting blinking uselessly at the pretty commander. “It is early”.

“ _Trikru_ awakens with the birds”, Lexa said, offering Clarke a purse that fit loosely in the palm of her hand. The smooth thin animal skin fell open to reveal three slices of brown bread and a piece of cheese resting in the middle, the breakfast’s scent reaching Clarke’s nose like a quiet, cheerful good morning.

“I thought _Louwoda Kliron_ woke early as well. For the horses”.

Clarke looked at Lexa behind untamed blond hair and a mouthful of bread – only to find the commander looking back at her with a clear glimmer of amusement in the green eyes.

“The horses, huh, these fuckers are getting lazy nowadays”.

The amusement was translated in a half smile and a lifted eyebrow.

“We are going to the war tower?”

It seemed to sober Lexa up and took the commander out of whatever good mood she had woken in. “No”, Lexa simply said, looking ahead as Clarke managed to fall into step next to her. “The scouts turned out to be too many and I told Anya to handle them for us, as she knows more of the forest around the Mountain. We will have the information summarized by the day’s twilight”.

“So where are we going?”

“The edge of the _Trikru_ hill. If we are going to move against the Mountain from this side of the forest, then you have to be familiar with the area. Your sketches of the trails and paths are going to help us around the Mountain, but you also need to learn this side of the forest all the way to the base of our enemy’s home”.

Clarke nodded, utter relief crossing through her at not having to be in a war room with forty scouts. Truth was, Clarke didn’t know how that discussion was going to play out – as this narrative had been played only a couple of times, and surely, not to this extend. The blonde knowledge of the commander’s milestone points able to push the storyline forward couldn’t be held by a simple Guest aiming for the biggest story in the Park.

Usually the Guests following Lexa for an intense ride travelled all the way to _Azgeda_ dodging flying axes and swinging swords on the way, assassination attempts keeping them on their toes and trying to distract them of the pure captivating nature of this world. So when it caught back to them and the adrenaline was sucked out – leaving them standing over the commander’s bleeding body and empty green eyes – the seducing reality of the Park hit them like a direct slap across their face.

It was tricky, the way Clarke knew, the way she couldn’t be surprised by the nature of these beings. Her hands had sliced open their artificial skin, had popped and pulled at wires and metal and plastic. Blue eyes had watched the Hosts for nearly a decade – had built up their character and movementσ and corrected the system’s glitches that made these Androids look more like pieces of junk put together, than history being written in the technological field. Quick butterfly touches in a screen and a breath had brought light in their eyes.

On one hand, people came here to change their lives and Clarke – well, Clarke was the one building the road to change, was a constant working underneath this forest to nudge the quests forward in their path. Clarke was one of the writers of this world, and reading through it felt like remembering the countless times composing it.

Lexa trailed a step to the front when they passed the last wooden cabin, hiding between the thick trees and building sized stones. There was no dirt covered walk line, but Lexa didn’t seem to slow down with uncertainty as they stepped over wild grass and scratching bushes. Green color completely wrapped around them, a few spots of blue starting to appear between the leaves. The dawn’s chill had started to ease as well, due to the warm rays of sunlight spilling over the Park’s surface for the first time today. Clarke managed not to stumble at the sight of the light’s illumination on the plants’ morning foggy humidity; the view coming close to actual magic – almost divine, almost holy.

It wrapped around Lexa effortlessly and as many times as Clarke had spent talking to the commander in the quiet interior of a glass room, she had never seen the Android settled in her world. Like the forest, Lexa moved in sync with the sound of gentle air, paused the pace of their walk just so for Clarke to take a breath and catch the scent of water lilies that seemed to be everywhere, tilted her head just right for the sunlight to be captured by the emerald green eyes and the black war paint. The commander’s boots were almost silent as they stepped on grass and fallen twigs, body moving with the upward bent of the rough ground.

The sight of her left Clarke breathless, eager blue eyes taking in the way the commander existed in the false nature. She longed for a camera, for a sketchbook and a pencil, a tablet and its wireless pen and the vividly gentle colors laying in app’s tools for her to use and mix and paint, while the scent of fresh coffee filled the air of Clarke’s office.

The commander was considered to be a character walking towards any kind of tragedy; Clarke had been there one too many times to watch a stretcher being rolled in the headquarters and the butchers’ station for a patch up and a refill of black blood. Other than the memories of sitting in front of the Host and testing the time-respond and the movement of her eyebrow when the anger levels rose, the images of Lexa’s cracked open chest came right at the top of Clarke’s mind when she heard of the commander.

It was said, the floor of Harper’s office was permanently stained by the spilled black blood on the tiles.

Walking through the Park with her could be the very first time Clarke was seeing Lexa so painfully human, to the point of forgetting the brunette young woman in front of her was a machine.

Clarke kept a step back, allowing her blue eyes to take in as much of the details as possible. Take in the way Lexa gracefully ducked under a low branch, inhaled just a bit deeper when they passed by a blooming bush of flowers. The usual harsh façade of the commander’s face had fallen away into something gentler, almost affectionate, and way too captivating for Clarke to bother questioning the softening feeling in her chest at the faint smile playing at Lexa’s mouth.

“Just a bit higher up”, Lexa said quietly, sending a look at Clarke over a shoulder and the red sash covering it. The ghost of the commander’s smiled gently transformed in a faint lopsided smirk. “Not used to upper ground, are you?”

 _Fuck her_ , Clarke thought as a breathless laugh escaped her throat. Spending most of her last decade in an underground high-technological bunker wasn’t really considered a layout for hiking through the woods, and any amount of morning workout routines couldn’t help with the ache coursing through her thighs and chest as Lexa moved higher up the cliff. Clarke wasn’t sure, but _Trikru_ hills were considered the third highest spot in the Park – after Mount Weather and the Blue Cliff Clan to the Far East section of the Park. And while the hike through _Ouskejon Kru_ territory was made for experienced athletes, used to ropes and safe protocols around dangerous rocky landscapes, _Trikru_ was right in the middle of the deep forest – wild plants, uneven ground, trees leaning over the hiker’s head and hiding the edge of the cliffs and the paths waiting to be walked.

“No upper ground like this back home”, Clarke replied, blue eyes catching Lexa’s knowing nod. The section of Shallow Valley was considered a mostly family friendly part of this Park – a peaceful clan, reminding more of a pack of hippies than an army of tough warriors. Easy trails through gentle ground, next to gentle rivers and even lovelier waterfalls. Horse rides for kids and parents alike, modest people eager to help the Newcomers, standing out from the Guests just because of the delicate tattoos marking their skin.

“We are almost there”.

They ducked in a dug passage through an enormous rock by _Trikru_ scouts, walking the small distance to the other side and finding themselves in front of a very short platform – the edge of the cliff. Four steps away, the ground freefell in a vertical line. From there, the Park spread out beneath Clarke’s feet, in a way she hadn’t seen before. Seeing it in person was so very different than having the image coming to her recorded by a flying Droid with an attacked camera, it was so very different to see the extent of the Park in person rather than seeing pixelated in a presentation.

Mount Weather towered in front of them – _gigantic and immense_ – its top playfully hiding between mist and the low clouds hovering above the forest. From the mountain tip and all the way down its rocky body, the main massive water source of the Park spilled in an actual sea of green, in the form of breathtaking waterfalls. The Park’s center river split in countless smaller steams, which mapped out the land in different directions, all the way to Polis and the outer edges of the Park.

From the cliff Clarke and Lexa stood on, to the base of Mount Weather, the forest covered every inch of land. It was a two days walk from Ton DC to the mountain, the thick trees and uneven ground making it hard for the horses to move from here on – a clear sign that the Game became harder from this limit. Ton DC stood on the border of the sections now, the last stop and resting place before the Guest fell into a harsher narrative of furious characters and wild storylines, of altered animals and plants due to the lingering effect of the radiation. _Azgeda_ spies sneaking around the trees, packs of Reapers crazily looking for pray, Mountain Men in anti-radioactive suits scanning the area for Grounder Hosts and for Guests to take in the mountain’s underground labs to crack open and skin apart in vile experiments for a cure that didn’t exist.

At the same time, scattered ruins of a destroyed world laid across the forest, popping into clear view underneath roots and moss and grass, and the nature fabricated over them. If the Guest’s eye was sharp enough to catch the ruins, follow the trail of destroyed buildings, they could find themselves in an exploration of an underground web of bunkers and houses and metro tunnels – filled with technological items and weapons ready to be used in the surface, against people with simple swords and knives and axes and spears, programmed to violently react at the sight of a firearm.

Power always seemed to be humanity’s pleasure in this artificial world away from their reality.

Power over the Hosts, over death, over their own selves and the violence waiting to be fed.

“The _Pauna_ hunting grounds are placed over the ruins of there” Lexa asked, a finger raising to point over the sea of trees to the top of the waterfalls, where the cave opening were barely visible from this distance, half hidden behind the mist. “Do you see from here?”

It took some searching, Lexa coming closer to make it easier for Clarke to follow the line of her pointing finger, and after a moment, blue eyes found a glimpse of concrete and marble between the trees; so out of place, but completely enwrapped by the green and nature in a way that felt… right. The waterfalls were in a very short distance from that point, to the building’s left – maybe half an hour of walking, if Clarke remembered correctly from the digital maps she had studied before coming in the Park.

“Right by the waterfall’s base, is the entrance”, Clarke said quietly, lifting her own hand to trace the way from the building to the farthest spot of the gigantic waterfall. “We have to get there by the _Pauna_ territory, or somehow cross the river”.

Lexa’s head was already shaking, a gentle frown formed under the black war paint staining her face. For a split breath, Clarke realized they stood actual _inches_ away, but the commander didn’t seem to notice. Lexa was talking again – explaining something about the water steam’s speed and force so close to the waterfall and how there was no apparent way for them to cross over the other bank from there – but Clarke wasn’t quite hearing her. Instead, the blonde could only focus on the faint earthy scent of the woman next to her, the way artificial light burned in emerald green eyes.

A simple movement forward and Clarke would be kissing the damned commander of the Thirteen Clans.

And considered Lexa’s nature, the Android would be probably be kissing Clarke back, even for a moment.

“It will not be the first time _Trikru_ warriors come near the _Pauna_ and survive. This might be the actual time to finish the threat of this animal. Spirits know this world will be quieter without a raging gorilla”.

The smooth voice brought Clarke back and she frowned back at the commander, meeting the bright green eyes. Lexa still seemed eased to be around the trees and the landscape of pure green colors, the sun crawling up the sky bathing them both in its morning light.

And then – “This… This world?”

Lexa shrugged lazily, green eyes tracing the forest with affection and care and Clarke felt cold sweat drench her body when the commander said; “There is another world out there, Clarke, beyond _Azgeda_ frozen dead zones and beyond the land of Plains Riders, away from the Desert Clan’s borders and the cliffs of _Ouskejon Kru_. There is another world out there; one we haven’t seen nor walked just yet”.

Green eyes turned and met blue and Lexa smiled something small and tired and _knowing_ and Clarke felt numb, numb, numb, because, “Another conversation for another time, Clarke”.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't exactly concluded, so another update is going to happen in this - an addition of about 4.000 more words, exploring Lexa's inward line of "thinking".


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